Lost Soul
by TheWhitePen
Summary: What if your soul mate is born seventy years after your death?  Could you wait?   Bella moves across the country to start a new job and a new life.  She isn't looking for love but she finds it in the most unexpected place.  BXE AXJ AU/AH No Vamps
1. Prologue and Chapter 1:  Death & Life

Disclaimer: Twilight is owned by Stephenie Meyer. I am only borrowing a few of her characters. The remainder of the story is my own. No reproduction is permitted without my written consent.

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Prologue: Death

_**Death. It feels strangely like life. At first. Kept alive in the thoughts and minds of those who loved you, those you loved. Each thought is a spark of life, like the glow of a candle, or even just a match in a dark room. **_

_**But even in death time moves on. The flashes of life become ever dimmer as you fade from the memory of those whom you thought would never forget, until there is nothing. A gray sky fades to black. **_

_**There is still the rare flash when someone walks near your grave and pauses to read the headstone, acknowledging a life lived and lost long ago. But now, that flash, dimmer than the last rays of the sunset, is not enough to revive you from your sleep. **_

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Chapter 1: Life

Life goes on even when you can't feel it, when you're numb, or held in a perpetual state of suspension. You go through the motions, wake up, shower, eat breakfast, go to work, go home, sleep, all with minimal emotion.

Somewhere in the deepest recesses of your mind you begin to get the creeping suspicion that life isn't worth living if you've built a wall between yourself and those you care about, even if it was built to shield them from your pain. When the source of the pain is gone, the walls remain, as real as brick and mortar, now isolating you alone in your own world. It's hard to find the will to tear them down. When your dreams have died, it's almost impossible to imagine that you can go back to being truly alive.

I pulled up the new house in my old red truck and paused to take in the sight of it. It wasn't really new, having been built many decades ago, but it was now mine. The house was a small white cape cod with green shutters next to the windows. It was built in the early 1920's by a man as a home for his new bride.

Mary, my realtor felt bad for trying to talk me out of buying it in the first place.

The house was almost too good to be true. It was everything I was looking for – reasonably priced, small, country setting. The nearest neighbors, a farmer and his family, were at least a half mile away. When I found the listing on the internet, I knew I had to snap it up fast.

Mary tried to discourage me when I first asked about it. She said that most people, when they got out there to see it, decided they weren't interested. I insisted. She asked if I believed in ghosts. I laughed, so she finally relented and scheduled a viewing.

When she drove me out to see it, I knew instantly that this was where I belonged. Even though I had grown up in the dry heat of Arizona, this just felt like home.

Mary showed me through the small kitchen and living room. Then she took me up stairs to see the two small bedrooms. The house wasn't quite as perfect on the inside. It looked like it had last been remodeled in 1970. The carpet in the larger bedroom had been green but faded to a mustard yellow everywhere except where a bed and dresser had stood for years. The other bedroom was smaller, but was covered in pink shag carpeting. The living room had cheap paneling on the walls and a popcorn ceiling that was now bare in spots. The kitchen was full of cheap brown cabinets with cheaper low-end counter tops. A spindly table and four chairs stood in one corner of the room. The finish was bubbled and peeling in spots, but it looked like it was solidly built. The whole house would need some work but there was nothing that couldn't be fixed.

"I'll take it!" I told the realtor, but I saw her cringe slightly. She said that there was one more thing I had to see, before I set my heart on this house.

She dragged me out the front door and around to side pointing south. There in the lot just past the yard was a small cemetery. It was well kept, with grass freshly mown. Many of the graves were decorated with flowers, or small flags to remember the veterans. Puzzled as to what the problem was, I turned back to the realtor.

"It's a cemetery."

"Yes, Isabella, it's a cemetery. It goes against the first rule of buying a house! Location, location, location! Houses near cemeteries have terrible resale value!" she lectured.

"But, it looks like a nice place."

"And I'm sure it is," she said, "But you are going to have an impossible time selling it. Who is going to want to live next to a cemetery? Too many people watch all those creepy ghost hunter stories." As alone as I was in the world, I didn't see how anyone, living or dead, could shake me.

"I'm sure nobody there is going to bother me," I said, rolling my eyes. "And besides, I'm getting a pretty good price now. I don't care if it doesn't double in value. As long as I can get out what I put in and I'm happy while I'm here why should I care about a few quite neighbors?"

She just shook her head, turned around and went back inside to start the paper work.

A horn sounded behind me, bringing me back to the present. My brother, Jasper, pulled the small U-haul into the driveway behind me. He climbed out of the truck, and walked out into the front yard.

"Well, Bells, it looks like a fine place, but I still don't know why you want to live out here in the middle of nowhere," he said, appraising the house.

"It's the only place I've found that just feels like home. Jake and I stopped in this town two years ago on our way to our honeymoon. Jake wasn't impressed with it. He said we were wasting our time trying to find a restaurant in this hick town." Nothing ever seemed to impress Jake. "We only stopped here for a few hours, but I thought it had a friendly feel. It's the kind of place you can get to know people, and really depend on your neighbors. Besides, they needed a second grade teacher and I needed a job."

"Yeah, well if Jake hated it then it can't be all bad." I gave him a pointed look that said drop it. Jasper had never liked Jake and I wasn't in the mood to rehash my past.

"But this isn't the neighborhood I would have chosen," he continued, looking over at the cemetery. "I hope they're friendly."

"Not you too!" I whined. "My realtor tried her hardest to talk me out of this place. This is my home now!"

"Well, you have to admit that it is just a little creepy," he insisted, eyeing the cemetery again. "Come on. Let's get this thing unloaded."

It only took us a few hours to get all my worldly possessions unloaded and carried into the house. When we were finished, we drove back into town to drop off the U-haul and grab some dinner.

The town didn't have much in the way of dining options to choose from. It had a pizza place, an ice cream parlor, a bar and grill called the Stoneman Tavern, and a small greasy-spoon diner. We headed into the Tavern and found a small table.

As we looked over the menu, Jasper asked, "So do you actually know anyone in this town?"

"Well," I replied hesitantly, "I know Mary Sanders, my realtor."

"She doesn't count. Do you have any friends here? Anyone who you can just go and hang out with?"

I played with the paper ring that had held my napkin and silverware in place, twisting it around my finger. "No, not yet. Once I start teaching I'm sure I'll meet lots of people."

"Bella, not everyone has gone through a loss like you have. I'm worried about you." Jasper always knew when I wasn't happy. He could sense it somehow. He was the only one to push at the walls I had built, looking for a weak spot. So far they held firm.

"Jasper, lots of people start out alone when they begin a new job. It's just my turn now. Besides, I like the idea of starting out in a new place where nobody knows me or Jake. Someplace where I can be myself and figure out who I am."

Before he could press on, the waitress appeared to take our orders. She was your typical country girl with long blond hair and blue eyes. She might have even been pretty if she used a little less hairspray and black eyeliner. She was clearly taken with Jasper because her eyes never left his face.

"Hi, my name is Amy and I'll be your server today. Would you like to hear our specials? " The way she purred the word 'specials' made me think she had something really special in mind in the back room for Jasper. He of course was totally oblivious as always.

"I'll have a grilled chicken salad and a coke," I said trying to interrupt her blatant attempt to flirt with my brother.

She scribbled my order down and turned back to Jasper. "And what can I get for you today?" she asked batting her long fake eyelashes.

"I'll just have the fried chicken and a coke," Jasper said handing her the menu.

"Oh, we only have Pepsi products. Is that okay?" she asked him.

"Sure," He said.

"Well, I'll be right back with your drinks." She turned and disappeared before I could stop her to change my order to an iced tea. I hated Pepsi.

"No tip for her," I grumbled.

"What's wrong with her?" Jasper asked. "She seems very polite."

"Jasper, you are so clueless. She was practically throwing herself at you." I said, exasperated.

"You're crazy. I think you are just trying to divert the conversation away from yourself and what you are doing in this hick town."

I leaned over the table placing my head in my hands.

Jasper reached across the table and took my hand. "I just worry about you. I know it's been a year since Jake was killed. I just don't want to see you pining away here all alone for someone who isn't coming back. You and Jake were together for so many years. It must be so hard for you to be alone now."

He just couldn't understand. As crazy as it sounded, I finally felt like I was getting my life on the right track, after being on the wrong one for so long. Now Jasper and the rest of my family were worried that I was going to throw my life away in some small town with nowhere to go. Worse yet, they all thought that my life, or at least the meaning in it, died in that car crash with Jake. The life had gone out of me long before that.

"When is everyone going to realize that I am capable of taking care of myself?" I snapped at him. "Yes, I miss Jake, but did it ever occur to you that things with him weren't exactly perfect? Look, Jasper. I don't want to talk about Jake now. I'm here for better or worse, and I intend to make the best of it."

Jasper frowned. "Fine. I'm sorry for bringing you down. Just promise me you'll call me if you need anything at all. I don't like the idea of you living all alone in that house."

"I promise."

The waitress returned, dispelling some of the tension, and we were able to finish our meal without discussing anything more awkward than my home improvement plans. The waitress finally came to clear the table and handed Jasper the bill folder with a big smile. "I'll take that," I said pulling it out of his hands. "It's the least I can do." She shot me a nasty look and left.

"Well, at least let me leave the tip. She was nice and I don't want you to stiff her,"

"She slipped you her number," I said, handing him the small scrap of paper that was folded in the bill.

Jasper turned red. "I'll pass," he said, jumping up from the table. "I'll meet you out by the car." Apparently he was now feeling the need for a quick getaway.

"Okay. I'll be right out. I want to pick up some groceries before we head back to the house."

I paid the bill and walked out the door. "Jasper, I think the grocery store is over," I stopped short.

Jasper was kneeling in the sidewalk next to someone. I ran over to them and looked over his shoulder. Passed out on the ground was a small woman with short brown hair. She was wearing cutoff jean shorts, dirty work boots and a bright green T-shirt that read 'Smith's Nursery'. "Oh my God! Jasper, what happened?" I asked him.

Jasper ignored me. He was about to lean down to check her pulse when she started to wake up. She shook her head and slowly propped herself up on one elbow.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

She kept her eyes closed tight as if she was afraid to look at him. "I'm fine. Happens all the time. I just need a minute."

She sat up and pressed the palms of her hands to her eyes as if she was trying to wipe away an image, then struggled to her feet. She was still a little wobbly, so Jasper caught her by the elbow to steady her.

The minute he touched her skin, her eyes flew up and locked on to his. Neither of them said anything. They just stared into each other's eyes like they were lovers who had been searching for each other all their lives.

"Are you sure you are okay?" I asked. I suddenly felt like I was intruding on their private moment.

At the sound of my voice their eyes broke contact and they jerked apart as if they suddenly realized that the rest of the world still existed around them.

"I'll be fine," she answered, shaking her head to clear it. "Like I said, it happens all the time." She dusted herself off and looked around at her feet, until she spied a ratty old bag that she must have dropped. She picked it up quickly and slung it over her shoulder, then turned back to us one last time. "I'm so sorry to bother you! Thanks for your help. I really have to be going. See you around." And she was gone. She darted down the street and into the restaurant we had just left.

Jasper was stunned. He just stood there staring at the door as she disappeared behind it. "Who was that?" he whispered.

"I have no idea," I replied. "She looks a bit crazy to me. Jasper, what did you do to the poor woman?"

"I didn't do anything! We were just walking down the street when she looked up into my eyes. The next think I knew, her eyes rolled back into her head and she dropped to the ground. Do you think we should go see if she is okay?" he asked. His eyes were filled with concern for this strange woman.

I shook my head. "She didn't look like she wanted our help. Let's get our groceries and head home."

Jasper took one last look back at the door then turned to walk back to the car with me.

It was evening by the time we got home. We were both worn out from carrying boxes and furniture all day. Jasper helped me to unload the groceries from the back of the truck, and then crashed on the couch with a beer to watch a ball game on my little 17" TV.

My body was tired, but my mind wasn't ready to shut down quite yet, so I excused myself and slipped outside to take a short walk.

I started by walking out front to take a look at the house, making a mental list of all the work that needed to be done. At first glance, the house looked picture perfect, but up close, you could see that it was in serious need of some TLC. The shutters next to the front window needed a fresh coat of paint. The white siding on the north wall was starting to turn green like moss growing on the north side of a tree. The hand rail on the back steps was rusty and loose. It would need to be completely replaced. It also looked like nobody had paid any attention to the flower beds in years. About half the house was buried in huge rhododendrons that had started to grow wild. I wasn't sure if I could salvage them or if I would need to start over.

Having made my way around the house once, I paused again in the front yard. The sun was setting, and it bathed the little white house in a soft orange glow. It would take a lot of work, but I could just see it as it was meant to be: my little white home with the green shutters, surrounded by flowers, maybe with a small vegetable garden in the back. When I was a child, I had dreamed of living in a place like this, but in my dreams I wasn't alone.

I shook my head to clear it before the tears could start. This was meant to be a new beginning. I would build a new life here. I didn't want to taint it with any of the pain from my previous life.

Turning from the house, I glimpsed the cemetery. The sun was going down, but there was still enough light for a short walk so I went off to meet my nearest neighbors.

The cemetery was small but well kept. As I walked among the headstones, I couldn't help feeling a sense of peace as I thought about the lives they represented. There were many couples, sometimes accompanied by children who didn't live long enough to leave their parents' side. I wondered about the single tombstones that were mixed in with the rest. For some reason they seemed lonelier than the others. A few had flowers and were clearly well tended, while others were not necessarily neglected, but definitely not visited regularly.

One grave at the far end of the cemetery seemed to draw me in. It was a lone gray marble headstone. Nothing fancy, just the finely carved letters of the name and dates. The only decoration was a small American Flag that had been recently planted by a veterans group on Memorial Day. He had been a soldier. A tear slid down my cheek, and for some reason I felt a profound sense of loss as I leaned down to read the words on the stone:

Edward A. Masen

June 20, 1899 – October 25, 1918

_**The light flared, brighter than it had in ages, startling and disorienting in its brief flash. But it was over almost as soon as it started, leaving behind only the ghost of an image. A face. The beautiful, sad face of a woman with a tear running down her cheek. I tried desperately to hold on to this image, to sear it into my consciousness before it slowly faded back into the endless black night.**_

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___A/N: This is my first multi-chapter story. I expect it to be about twenty chapters unless I deviate from my outline for some reason. _

___Please leave a review. I promise to write back, and I will share a few lines of an Alice POV that I wrote, but chose not to include. _


	2. Chapter 2: A New Beginning

**Disclaimer: Twilight is owned by Stephenie Meyer. I am only borrowing a few of her characthers. The remainder of the story is my own. No reproduction is permitted without my written consent.**

**Author's Note**

** I posted Lost Soul Chapter 1 just minutes before Mrs. The King posted the final chapter of Gynazole. I know what everyone was reading that night, so I will just have to try again with Chapter 2. This one contains alot of background information, but it does help get the plot going in the right direction.**

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Chapter 2 A New Beginning

I woke up the next morning feeling exhausted. The stress of moving had finally caught up with me. I had gone to bed right after my walk, but sleep was elusive. When I did finally drift off my usual nightmares weren t far behind.

Last night s dream was the worst I d had in a long time. It started out with me in my kitchen baking cookies. I used to love to bake. It kept my hands busy, freeing my mind to ponder whatever problem was bothering me at the moment.

In the dream, I was just about to start placing cookies on the baking sheet when Jake burst into the room waving some papers in my face.

Bella! What the hell is this? he screamed at me.

Jake, listen! I tried to reason with him but he wasn t in a mood to talk. He rarely was.

No. I don t want to hear your excuses. You are just determined to fuck up everything you touch. I won t let you destroy our marriage! He had found the divorce papers. That had been my greatest fear in the month leading up to that day. I was terrified of the rage that awaited me when I finally got up the nerve to ask for a divorce. I had planned to be somewhere far away when he finally found out.

Jake had never laid a finger on me. Even so, marrying him was the worst mistake of my life. We started dating when I was a junior in high school. He was my first and only boyfriend. I had always been shy and quiet, so when he started paying attention to me I was thrilled. Jake was big, and strong, and handsome. He could have had any girl he wanted, but he chose me.

In the early days he was sweet and attentive. He brought me flowers for our first date, chocolates on Valentine s Day, and a heart shaped necklace on my birthday. I was happy to follow him around and let him control both of our lives. It didn t really seem like giving up control at the time, but they say hindsight is twenty-twenty.

He gradually inserted himself in place of every other important person in my life. He moped when I spent time with my friends, making me feel guilty. Or else, he would make nasty comments about them, always trying to replace my opinion of them with his own. The problem was that I was so over the moon for him that I just let it happen. It was effortless. By the time we had been together a year I only saw my friends in class, and even there they barely spoke to me. But that was okay. I had Jake.

He d had a violent temper for as long as I had known him, but in the early days it was always directed at others in the school. If some guy looked at me the wrong way, Jake threatened him. If someone bumped into him he had them pinned up against the locker by the throat. A few of friends thought I was crazy to be with him, but I always defended his actions saying that they didn t know the real Jake.

My father, Charlie, couldn t see him for what he was. Charlie and Jake s dad, Billy, have been best friends forever. Jake could do no wrong in his eyes. I swear, when we started dating those two started planning the rest of our lives for us.

The only person in my family who never quite trusted him was my step-brother, Jasper. My parents had gotten divorced when I was a baby. My mom left town as soon as the papers were signed, and nobody had heard from her since. Jasper s mom, Sue, married my dad when I was fourteen. Sue always kept her distance, never feeling quite up to the task of parenting a teenage girl.

Having Jasper in the family made up for any lack of affection between Sue and me. He was the big brother I never had. He liked to kid around with me, but looked out for me at school. When he went off to college I missed him terribly. That was the year I met Jake.

Jasper knew we were dating, but when he came home for summer break he was surprised to find just how consumed I was by Jake. He was the only one who managed to pry me away from him for any length of time. Of course, Jake was insanely jealous, but Jasper was the one person he couldn t pound to a pulp and get away with it. He settled for quiet fuming. Jasper sensed that things weren t quite right with our relationship. He tried to talk to me about it, but I wouldn t listen to him.

A week after our graduation I found out that I was pregnant. That was when it all started to change for the worst. I was young and scared, but I thought he would be there for me. For the first time I saw his temper lash out at me.

When I suspected that I was pregnant, I went to him immediately. He had solved any other problem that I had. I didn t know what I should do without him. I was stunned when instead of surprise, joy, or even fear, I saw the familiar mask of anger take over his face.

He called me a slut and accused me of intentionally getting pregnant just so that I could ruin his life. Then he stormed out of the house leaving me sobbing and scared on the couch.

A month earlier, Jake had pressured me to have sex with him on our prom night. I wasn t ready, but he assured me it would be fine. He was supposed to use a condom so that I wouldn t get pregnant, but when the time came, it wouldn t go on right. He threw it to the side and told me not to worry, that nothing would happen. I looked into his eyes and trusted him as I had on everything else.

It was painful, at least for me. Jake seemed to enjoy it immensely. By the time he finished, tears were streaming down my face. He laughed at my reaction, but kissed my tears away. He said that s what the first time is supposed to be for a girl, and that it would be better next time.

We did it a few more time after that. The pain went away, but I never understood why some of the girls at school were so crazy about it. Jake always used a condom after that first time, but once was all it took.

When Jake ran out on me I didn t know what to do. I curled up in a ball on the couch and cried. I was just about to call Jasper and tell him everything when Jake returned to find me still sobbing on the couch in my living room. He apologized, saying that I had just caught him off guard. Then he looked into my eyes and said, Isabella Swan, will you marry me? Instantly, all my fears and sorrows were wiped away. Jake wanted to marry me. He would take care of me and make everything okay. I didn t even think before accepting.

But the door to his anger had been opened, just a crack. There was no going back. From that point on, the smallest thing could bring it out. Any time I disagreed with him or defied him it was written on his face.

We were married two weeks later. It was just the two of us in a simple ceremony with the Justice of the Peace. We had to drive about an hour to the city hall in Albington. There was no way the daughter of the Chief of Police could get married without his knowledge in our little town.

Our families weren t exactly thrilled when they found out what we had done, but they accepted it quickly enough. Jake was a charmer. He had everyone, including me, convinced that our love couldn t be contained. Jasper was the only one who didn t seem thrilled about it. He offered his congratulations like everyone else, but it seemed like he was always holding something back. Whenever he thought I wasn t looking, his face had a serious expression that I couldn t figure out.

Jake landed a job as an auto mechanic right out of high school. It didn t pay much, but it was enough to get a tiny one room apartment. I got a part time job bagging groceries at the store down the road. Our little bubble of happiness felt so good, but it was fragile.

About a month after we were married I woke up with cramps. They scared me, and I didn t know what to do. I took some ibuprofen which seemed to help. Feeling a bit better, I went to work. That was a mistake. I had only been there for about 15 minutes when another cramp hit. My manager pulled me into her car and ran me to the hospital.

I remember sitting in a bed later that afternoon in a room surrounded by my family. Jake sat in the corner with his face in his hands. I couldn t look at him. I felt so guilty that I had lost my baby, and I just knew that he blamed me too.

Jasper and my dad stayed with me for a little while, but after a few hours, my dad decided that Jake and I needed some time alone. I wanted to plead with them not to leave me alone with him, but I knew it would only delay the inevitable.

After that day Jake never bothered to hide his anger from me. It never came out when our families were around, but when we were alone he placed the blame for every failure or problem in his life squarely on my shoulders.

It was almost impossible to deal with both the loss of my baby, and the misery that my marriage had become. I became depressed and withdrew even further.

Finally, my father insisted that I should go to college as planned at the end of the summer. Since he was paying the bill, Jake could hardly say no. I enrolled in the Elementary Education program at the local community college at the start of the fall term.

College was eye-opening. It was everything high school was not. Since Jake wasn t there I was able to make some friends and even speak to a guy without worrying about it causing him, or myself for that matter, bodily harm. I still didn t see anyone else outside of school, and never gave out my phone number. I couldn t risk Jake finding out that I spent time with anyone besides him.

Then one day, I found a little card that had been left in the women s restroom. It read, Nobody deserves to be abused! On the back side was a list of the signs of domestic abuse and a number to call for help.

I cried the first time I read it. I had never considered Jake to be abusive before because he never actually hit me. To my surprise many of the signs of abuse weren t physical. I must have carried that card with me for three months before I worked up the nerve to call the number.

The phone was answered by a counselor at a local women s shelter. I somehow managed to tell my story to this stranger. When she said she could help me it was like a huge weight had been lifted from my soul.

She arranged for me to go to counseling on domestic abuse. Over time I realized that I needed to get out of my marriage before Jake crossed the line from verbal to physical abuse. The shelter connected me with a lawyer who wrote up the divorce papers for me.

I had been in the process of making the final arrangements and was just a few days away from filing the papers when Jake burst into the room waving them in my face.

The noise of a car outside my window woke me up before the Jake in my nightmare could resume his nightly tirade, but my heart was already racing in anticipation and fear.

I took several deep breaths to calm myself. When I finally caught my breath, I took a look at the clock. It was already ten after five. Jasper! I yelled.

Jasper was working on his PhD in Sustainabilty at RIT. He needed to get on the road by 5:00 AM to have any chance of getting to his class on time. I jumped out of bed and ran down the stairs, but my effort was wasted. The couch was empty with the blanket folded neatly on the back. I found a note waiting for me on the kitchen table.

Bella,  
I didn t want to wake you up to say goodbye. Take care of yourself, and get out of the house once in a while. Meet some people! Don t forget to call your dad. I ll see you in a few weeks. Love,

Jasper.

P.S. Sorry for making fun of your house. It really is a great place. I hope you re happy here.

Jasper always knew how to make me smile. He had been my step-brother for eight years, but he took care of me as if he had known me since the day I was born.

There was no point going back to sleep now. The dreams would just come again. I had hoped that I could leave them behind with a fresh start, but I guess it takes more than a new house to make a new life.

I dug through my kitchen boxes until I found my coffee maker and a fresh bag of coffee. Once the pot was brewing, I went back upstairs to take a shower. I had a lot of work to get done to make this house livable, but I was excited. Today was the day I started my new life.

I spent the morning cleaning the house literally from top to bottom. By about eleven I was starting to get hungry. That s when I realized that the kitchen would have been a better place to start. I wasn t about to cook anything more complex that cereal in that dirty kitchen, so I decided to drive into town for lunch.

As I turned onto Main Street the gray skies started to rain. I didn t have an umbrella, so I pulled on my jacket with the hood up and got out of the truck. The street was lined on both sides with little shops, typical of a small town. I passed a pharmacy, a hardware store with a dusty display in the front window, and a florist showing off silk flower arrangements, as well as a few empty windows with dusty for rent signs leaning against the glass. The grey day just made them look even more depressing. I was about to turn and cross the street to the diner when I stopped short.

Sandwiched between the florist and an empty store front was a small window and door with a used books sign. The chipped grey door frame looked like it hadn't seen a fresh coat of paint in at least ten years, and the windows were so dirty that you could barely see inside. I would have thought it was out of business except for a bright flowery flag flying next to the door reading 'Open'. I tried the handle, and to my surprise it turned. The store was dimly lit, but had a bright fluorescent light shining from a back room.

"Hello?" I called. I was met with silence followed by a crash and the sound of tumbling objects from the back room.

"Shit!" a woman's voice cried out.

I ran to the back to see what had happened. There on the floor was a mousy little woman lying under a ladder and a pile of books.

"Oh my God! Are you okay?" I asked.

"I'm fine I think," she said in a bit of a daze.

"I hope I didn't startle you! Here, let me help you up," I said reaching to pull the ladder off of her. This was a first for me. I was usually the klutzy injured one on the ground.

"No, no I just thought I was alone. I read a ghost story before going to bed last night and it's making me jumpy.

She carefully emerged from the pile of books and stood up to dust herself off. "Nothing broken," she said. "Oh, where are my manners. I'm Betty. Welcome to my bookstore. It isn't much, but I'm working on it. I've only been open for a week."

"Bella," I replied, tentatively taking the hand she offered me. I just moved into town yesterday.

"Oh really. How nice. We don't get many new people here in town. Where do you live?" She started stacking books in a haphazard pile on the floor.

"I'm in the little white house out on Skyler road. The one next to the little cemetery." I said as I knelt down to help her pick up the books.

"Oh, you mean the McCarty house. That's a nice place. I'm glad to see someone back there again."

"I think it's perfect for me, it needs some work, though. I've been cleaning all morning, but I have a few projects that are a bit too big for me. I think I'll need to hire a handyman."

"You should give Anthony Cullen a call. He lives just up around the corner from you. He does maintenance work for the town, but he also does odd jobs now and then."

"Thanks, I ll think about that," I said. "So tell me where did you get all these books?" As I was stacking, I noticed that the books in the back room weren't your typical used book store fare. They were mostly older classics. Very few were published after 1930. They seemed to be in excellent condition. Some looked like they had never been read, while others, like the copy of Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice that I held in my hand, had clearly been read cover to cover many times. As I looked around the room, I saw that there were boxes and boxes filled with books in similar condition. "I bought the store a month ago from its previous owner. He had enough of it and decided to move south with his daughter. The books out front, all came from with it. The ones here in these boxes are the real prize though. I bought these at an estate sale last winter. The descendant of one of the old-money families from town had just died, and his heirs didn't have a use for them. They were scheduled to be auctioned off as part of the sale, but on the day of the auction we had a freak snow storm." She picked up the last of the books off the floor and returned it to the shelf. "They should have attracted book buyers from miles around, but I was the only one willing to brave the snow. I was really lucky to get them."

"They are quite a collection. Do you mind if I take a look at them?" I said, picking one off the table reverently. I couldn't resist old books. I loved the feel of the covers, and the thin delicate pages. They were like a window to a world long gone.

"Please help yourself," she said waving to the boxes stacked throughout the room. "I'll be moving them out front as I get them catalogued." The bell at the front door rang, making her jump again. "Shit! she cried again, I'm going to have to get rid of that damn bell before it gives me a heart attack. I'll be right back." She scrambled over a box and out to the front room.

I couldn't help but laugh at the strange woman as I turned to take in the boxes of books. There were so many that I didn't know where to begin.

A brown corner sticking out of one of the books caught my attention. I lifted it up and pulled out an old black and white photograph. The edges were worn, but the sepia shades were still clear. It was a picture of a soldier, dressed smartly in his uniform. The photograph showed only his head and shoulders but you could tell by his posture that he was tall and thin. His face was handsome with a strong chin and piercing eyes, but it still had the youthful look of a boy who hadn't completely reached manhood yet. I don't know why, but the look on that face made me think that this was someone who could look inside of me into my very soul. I turned the photograph over, but there was no name on it. The owner clearly knew him, and therefore didn't need to write a name. It was frustrating. There had to be some clue as to who he was.

I turned to the book. It had no title on the cover or the binding, so I began flipping through. The book looked like a hand written journal filled with dated entries that ended abruptly in 1918. I turned back to the first page and read:

"Diary of Rosalie Masen"

Masen. Where had I heard that name? I looked back at the picture and then it clicked. Edward Masen was the soldier buried near my house. Was I looking at photograph of him? My heart pounded with excitement! I had to have this diary. I had thought that I was content with his story being a mystery to me, but now, I had to find out what had happened to him. Why was he buried alone out there in that cemetery at such a young age? The rational part of my brain told me it was ridiculous to get all excited over someone who had been dead for almost one hundred years, but for some reason I couldn't stand not knowing.

Best sellers! Betty muttered behind me, making me jump. Can t they see this is a used book store? Her eyes caught sight of the book I turned over in my hands and she smiled. Found something you like, dear?

Yes. I ll take this one. It looks like an old diary written by a young girl almost a hundred years ago. I can t help but wonder what she would have considered important enough to write down.

Betty took the book from me, and flipped quickly through a few pages. Then, you can have it. It s not likely to fetch much on e-bay. Consider it a welcoming gift

Here you go, she said as she placed the book into a bag for me. Come back next week. I should have these boxes sorted by then.

I ll do that. Thanks again!

I left the shop and hurried across the street in the rain, leaping over a puddle on the other side. I couldn t wait any longer to open my book, but I somehow it seemed too personal to be reading there in the diner. Instead, I ordered a sandwich to go, and waited, tapping my foot impatiently as it was made. I dropped a few bills on the counter for the waitress, and was out the door before she could thank me.

Home again, I pulled the diary out of the bag and set it on the counter, torturing myself with the suspense while I made myself a cup of tea. Maybe I was afraid of disappointment. After all, from the brief glimpse I had at the store, this looked like the diary of a teenage girl. It might be full of trivial worries, and selfish wishes that would interest no one but the writer herself.

But there was the picture. I opened the back flap where I had left it and pulled it out. He had to be someone important to her or she would not have kept it. His was the story I longed to read in these pages.

I drank my tea and ate my sandwich while I stared at the picture.

His face held so many mysteries. It wasn t happy or sad, but determined, as if he knew a difficult job lay ahead of him, but he had to do it. He was so handsome, with his chiseled jaw and piercing eyes. I wanted so much to see him smile. Ultimately the picture held no answers. It only raised more questions. I opened the diary and began reading.

April. 17 1916

Dear Diary,  
My name is Rosalie Masen, but everyone calls me Rose. Today is my sixteenth birthday, and my dear brother Edward was so kind as to give me this journal as a present. He said that I was to use it to record all my experiences, as well as my heart's deepest longings and desires, so that is what I intend to do.

I'll begin by telling you about my family. We have five members in our family, Father, Mother, my brothers James, and Edward, and myself. My father, Edward Masen Sr. is the owner of the Masen Furniture Factory and is a very distinguished member of the community. My mother, Elizabeth Masen is the kindest person I know. She leads several of the local charity committees that feed and clothe the poor children in town. I have two older brothers, James and Edward. James is twenty years old. He works with Father at the factory as a Foreman, and is studying to take over some day. It is a very important job. I don't see him much, except at meals when he and Father discuss the day's work. Edward is not quite seventeen years old. He still attends school at the Academy in Evanston during the week, but comes home with us on the weekends.

James and Edward look almost like twins at first glance. They are both tall and strong with handsome features and Mother's auburn hair. The most visible difference is in their eyes. James and I both have Father's plain brown eyes, but the Lord smiled on Edward, giving him our Mother's beautiful green eyes. They aren't a pale green-brown like others who are said to have green eyes. Edward's eyes are a beautiful glistening emerald color.

Edward's eyes are so unique that some people, especially older women, lose their train of thought when they look at him. I like to tease him, telling him that he could have his pick because no woman could resist his gaze. He always tells me not to worry. He has no intention of captivating a woman with his gift until he finds the one with the kindness of our mother and the beauty and spirit of his sister. I know that if he does find her I shall be terribly jealous. I love Edward dearly, and could not stand to see him bestow his affections on another.

I am the youngest member of the family. I have long blond hair and brown eyes, and hope someday soon to be the beauty of the family. Edward would scold me for that comment, telling me that such immodesty is unbecoming, but I mustn't write ill of him. It was so thoughtful of him to give me this journal. I promised him that I would write in it every day. I intend to follow through, but I must be finishing for now. I still have to dress for my party this afternoon.

Rosalie Masen

I closed the diary and looked again at the soldier's picture. This had to be my Edward.

I spent that afternoon and part of the evening reading the diary. I saw quickly that Rose did not manage to write an entry each day, but she wrote regularly enough that I was able to get a pretty good idea of what life was like for a privileged teenage girl in 1916. It got very tedious at times. She spent pages describing a new dress and shoes that she bought to wear at Christmas. She complained when she was too young to stay up late for one of her mother's dinner parties. She spent pages more discussing her best friend Jane and their school antics. She expressed her secret relief when Edward took no notice of Jane's schoolgirl crush on him. Rosalie Masen was every bit as shallow and self absorbed as any modern teenager.

The main thing that kept me reading was the occasional mention of Edward. These little gems were scattered randomly throughout the entries, but I learned much from them as I read. He played the piano. Rose had lost patience with it after a few lessons, but in her eyes, he had developed into the most skilled musician she had heard. Edward clearly loved his sister. He brought her gifts when he came home from school, comforted her when she had an argument with her friend, and defended her when the boys picked on her in the street.

The reading went slowly. Her cursive script could be difficult to decipher at times. After about an hour of it, I decided to pull out my laptop and type up a transcript as I went, in case I wanted to re-read it later. This slowed me down even further, so that by evening I had only made it as far as May of 1917 before I had to stop and rest my eyes.

Lying in bed I was exhausted, but couldn t seem to fall asleep. My mind kept replaying the contents of the diary and what I had learned about Rose and Edward. When I finally did drift off to sleep, I dreamed of the soldier in the picture. Just like the picture, his features and his uniform were all in sepia tones of brown and gray, all except for his piercing green eyes.

* * *

_**EPOV**_

_** The flare of consciousness burst forth again, stronger than it had in years. But this time, instead of fading it grew stronger, as if I had been refreshed by my long rest. I felt immediately confused. Unlike the other times, there was no one here in front of me, no face drawing me from my sleep, but I could feel a presence off in the distance beckoning me. Its pull was so irresistible that I found myself drifting off from the resting place I hadn t left in almost 100 years.**_

_**It drew me to a house, inside, as if the walls and floors had a form but no substance. I vaguely realized that it was I that had only an ethereal form. I was merely a lost soul searching for my true home.**_

_**I drifted on to an upstairs room where I found an angel lying on a bed curled up under the covers. Her body hummed, its life force radiating into the space around her. It was this force that had pulled me to her, and I basked in its glow.**_

_**But why had she called me forth? I had never known her in life. What connection did we share, that she held such power over me?**_

_**I found no answers there, so instead I stopped questioning and just reveled in the moment. I took in every detail of her face, her creamy skin, and her long brown hair. I used every bit of effort my ethereal form could muster to impress that likeness on my mind. She was now the center of my existence.**_

_**I watched silently over my sleeping angel as she rested peacefully through the night until dawn broke over the horizon and she started to stir.**_

* * *

**Author's Note:**

** I want to thank everyone who read and reviewed chapter one, particularly Spikey! You guys make all the hours of writing worth the effort.**

**I also need to thank my husband, The Black Pen, for being my Beta for chapter 2. It was painful for him but he did a great job. If anyone out there would like to take over as my Beta and put him out of his misery please send me a PM. I do reasonably well with grammar and punctuation but something always gets through. I also need someone who can tell me if the story makes sense or not.**

**I'll be back with Chapter 3 in about two weeks. Please leave a review!**


	3. Chapter 3: Flowers and a Friend

Disclaimer: Twilight is owned by Stephenie Meyer. I am only borrowing a few of her characters. The remainder of the story is my own. No reproduction is permitted without my written consent.

* * *

Chapter 3 Flowers and a Friend

I awoke to the sound of a robin chirping outside my open window. I knew it must be daylight, but I couldn't bring myself to open my eyes just yet. He tweeted away happily, like a celebration of life in the new day. Fortunately, it was too early for my brain to register just how sappy that thought sounded.

I yawned, stretching my arms above my head and cracking my eyes open. I felt more rested than I had in years. If this feeling was the reward for taking a risk on a new home and a new life, then it was worth it. I had been worried yesterday when I woke up from the nightmare that nothing had really changed. Now I felt like I had a real chance to live a happy and fulfilling life – all from a good night's rest.

With this much energy I couldn't stay in bed any longer. I forcibly locked up any sarcasm trying to leak from my brain before it could bring me down. I bounced up, and went down to the kitchen to start a pot of coffee before running back upstairs to jump in the shower.

As I went about my morning routine, I made a mental list of all the work that still needed to be done on the house. I was still living out of boxes, but before I could unload them I wanted to do some remodeling work inside the house. Today was too beautiful to think about that though. The sun was shining brightly, and I had known from the moment I woke up that I needed to spend the day outside.

I grabbed a few slices of toast for breakfast, poured my coffee into a travel mug, and headed out the door.

After a quick survey of my yard I realized that I had plenty of work to do but no tools with which to do it. I needed to take another trip to town. I stepped back into the house to grab my purse, and then climbed into my truck.

It still seemed strange to think of it as my truck. I had watched Jake spend a year bringing this truck back to life in the garage behind his dad's house. Those were some of my best memories of him. He spent most of our senior year of high school working on it. I remembered how he tore down the engine piece by piece, carefully cleaning each of the parts and replacing a few along the way. He didn't use a manual. Somehow, he just seemed to know how each of the pieces fit together.

I sat in that garage for hours watching him. Once in a while, when he had some menial task to do, he would even let me help, but mostly I fetched tools and food for him while he worked.

Those were the times when I felt the closest connection to him, when I was living up to his expectation of what a girlfriend should be. I mean, he hardly ever spoke while he was working, but if he got angry, he took it out on the truck. Jake had a fiery temper, and I always felt sorry for whomever or whatever was the object of it. Every once in a while, though, when something would go together just right, he would look at me and smile, reminding me of why I fell in love with him.

I wished that he would have taken forever to restore the truck, but it only lasted about a year. We were seniors about to graduate by the time he finished it. It seemed like the minute he finished putting this truck back together and drove it out of the garage everything else between us started to fall apart.

Sometimes I thought I was crazy for keeping it, but it was the only tangible thing I had from that earlier time with Jake, when things were good.

But today was too good to waste dwelling in the past. I started up the truck and drove into town. My first stop was the hardware store, where I picked up some gardening tools and a watering can. The clerk at the checkout was an older man with thin gray hair, wearing a pair of dusty overalls.

"Well, hello there. I didn't see you sneak in today," he said, folding his newspaper. "You must be new in town. I know everybody here, but I don't know you. I'm Arthur McAllister, but you can call me Arty."

I set my things on the counter. "Bella Swan," I said, timidly shaking the hand he held out. I wasn't normally so shy with people, but everyone here was so overwhelming with friendliness that I didn't know what to make of it. "I just moved into the little white house down on Skyler road."

He took my hand and shook it firmly. "Ah, yes, the McCarty house. Heard someone had moved in there. It's nice to meet you. So what brings you to town?" he asked as he started ringing up my items.

"I got a job teaching at the elementary school in the fall. I came a few months early so that I could get settled in before school starts."

"School teacher, huh, that's a respectable profession. My nephew, Sam, is starting first grade. His parents let him run a bit on the wild side. You make sure you whip him into shape. Somebody's gotta do it."

"I don't have my class list yet, but I'm sure he'll do fine with any of the teachers."

"Here you go, ma'am," he said handing me my bag. "Thanks for shopping with us, and if there's ever anything else you need please stop in again."

"Thanks, Arty." I said, gathering my purchases. "Actually," I paused and turned back to the counter, "there is one thing you can do for me. I'm looking for a greenhouse or nursery. I want to get some new flowers planted around the house today. Can you recommend a place nearby?"

Arty thought hard for a minute, rubbing the stubble on his chin with his finger and thumb. "You want Smith's Nursery on Maplehurst road. They have the best selection and they are only a few miles away. If they don't have it, you'll have to run clean up to Apple Grove to find a better one. Just head east on Main Street about three or four blocks and turn left on Maplehurst. Smith's is about five miles down the road on the left. You can't miss it."

"Thanks again, Arty." The bell on the door rang as it opened and closed behind me. I put my things in the back of the truck, and climbed back in.

Arty's directions were good so I had no trouble finding Smith's Nursery. The place looked deserted, and at first I wasn't completely sure it was open, but the doors to the greenhouses had been thrown wide. I decided it wouldn't hurt to take a look.

I had always loved greenhouses even though I never had much of a green thumb. The variety never ceased to amaze me. I always wanted to take the most exotic plants home, but I knew from experience that they would be dead in two weeks. I decided to start with something a little hardier.

I walked through the first greenhouse and turned a corner to enter the second, but stopped short. In front of me was a woman with her back to me, dragging out the coils of a large hose. She seemed familiar but I couldn't figure out how I knew her.

"Hey Ryan, could you run back and turn on…" The moment she saw me she gasped, spinning and dropping the hose. I didn't realize I could be that frightening.

"Y-you," she stuttered as she stepped backwards and tripped on the hose. Before I could move she tumbled to the ground. The second she hit the ground I realized where I remembered her from. She was the same woman who had passed out on the sidewalk in front of Jasper on our first night in town.

"Oh my gosh, I didn't mean to scare you!" I ran over and helped her up. She didn't seem confused or disoriented like she had the first time we met. She let me pull her back up and dusted herself off.

"I'm so sorry. I'm not normally this klutzy. It's just that…" She paused and just stared at me for a moment. "I knew it," she whispered.

"I'm sorry, you knew what?" I asked. This woman was one of the most perplexing people I had ever met.

She laughed. "I keep starting this out all wrong. I'm Alice Brandon." She pulled off a work glove and extended her hand.

"Bella Swan," I replied. I grasped her hand lightly but was taken aback when she shook it violently up and down.

"Oh Bella, I really need to apologize for running away from you and your friend that day on the street. It was very rude of me."

"Don't worry about it. Jasper will be glad to know you are okay. He was really worried about you."

"Jasper? That's his name?" she asked shaking her head. "My signals must be off. I was thinking of him as Jazz in my mind."

"Well, most of his friends call him Jazz. Jasper is a little too old-fashioned for his taste." She must have heard me call him Jazz when we met on the street.

"That explains it," she said with a satisfied expression. "So, Bella, I thought I knew everyone in town. Are you new here?"

"Yes, I just moved in a few days ago. Jasper drove down to help me unload my things from the truck. We had just finished dinner that day we ran into you on the street."

"Oh, you must have thought you moved into a town full of crazy people given the way I ran away from you.

I couldn't help laughing at her. "Well, I have to say, I did wonder a bit. But you seem pretty normal today, so I'm no longer worried. Really, everyone here has been incredibly helpful. I can't imagine a better place for a fresh start."

"So where are you staying?" she asked.

"I bought the little white house down on Skyler road."

She gasped slightly. "The McCarty house? I heard that someone bought it, but I never guessed it was you." Suddenly, she seemed filled with excitement. She was practically bouncing out of her boots. "That's wonderful! The place needs a lot of work, but it belongs in the hands of someone who will love it. I would live there myself if I had the money. I'm so glad you have it."

"Hey, why do you call it the McCarty house? Everyone in town seems to call it by that name."

"Well, it was built around 1920 by old Emmett McCarty for his wife when they first got married. They later moved to a bigger house in town, but that one has always been known as the McCarty house. If you ever need to call the ambulance or the fire department, don't bother with directions. Just tell them you live in the McCarty house and they'll find you right away." She nodded confidently.

"I'll remember that. It's a great place, but my realtor didn't want to sell it to me. She said it was a bad investment to buy property right next to a cemetery."

"I don't know about that. A cemetery isn't anything to be afraid of. I think in the hands of the right person, that house could blossom again."

"I agree, and speaking of blossoming, I'm working on the flower beds today."

"Oh, what can I show you?" She was bouncing again. "We have a great selection of annuals in this greenhouse. The perennials are in the next one, and if you're looking for something really exotic…"

I raised my hands to settle her down. "I think I need something that is easy to keep alive. I mean I've never met a houseplant that I couldn't kill. Point me to something easy to grow."

She stopped bouncing and looked a little disappointed. "Well, I guess we could start you off with some pansies."

"That sounds great." She led me into the perennials greenhouse and helped me load a cart from the rows of pansies, then added two cartons of marigolds.

"Do you have any lily of the valley? My grandmother had them in her garden when I was little."

"Well, they would be done flowering for the year but I can see if we still have any out back. They are a perennial so if you plant them now, they should look beautiful next year."

She disappeared behind the greenhouse, but returned in a few minutes with two pots with the green leaves I remembered, but without the delicate white flowers.

"Here you go, pansies for loving thoughts and lily of the valley for sweetness, humility, and return of happiness."

"Sounds perfect."

"Do you have any landscaping fabric?" Alice asked as she pulled the cart back to the checkout.

"No, should I?" I replied. I was really out of my element here.

"Well, I've seen the McCarty house. You are going to have to start from scratch. Once you have the ground weeded and prepped, you should cover it with landscaping fabric to keep the weeds down. You can cut holes in it wherever you want to plant the flowers. Then you can cover the fabric with mulch or stones."

"Okay, I guess I'll try it." I was willing to try anything, and Alice seemed to know what she was talking about. She rang me up and followed me to my truck, carrying a roll of fabric while I pulled the cart.

She lifted the fabric into the bed as I loaded the flowers. "If you want, I could stop by sometime and draw up a landscaping plan for you."

"Alice, that would be great! I mean, I would hate to put you through the trouble, but I can use all the help I can get."

"It's no problem. I would love to do it. Besides, it will give us a chance to get to know each other better. I'll stop by in a few days with some ideas."

"That sounds fine. I can't wait to see them." I climbed back up into my truck and closed the door. Alice was still standing outside, staring at me intently.

"Uh, Alice? Is everything okay?" I asked.

She shook her head a few times. "Sorry, I zoned out there. It's just… You have one of the strongest auras I've ever seen. It's one of my little quirks. Don't worry about it. A strong aura is a good thing." She waved and called, "See you later, Bella," before turning around and heading back into the greenhouse.

What a strange person. I barely knew her, but I could tell that Alice was clearly one of those unique people that you meet along the road of life. She was one of the ones that are completely unlike anyone else you've ever encountered, but touch your life in ways you'll never dream. I had no idea how she would touch mine, but I was really happy to have met her.

I drove home and unloaded my things into the front yard. There was no way I would get it all done today, but I wanted to at least get started on the flower beds. I debated on whether to trim back some of the shrubs first, but I really wanted to get the flowers planted. I picked up my shovel and got to work.

By early afternoon I had the ground in front cleared of grass and weeds. I took a quick break to eat a sandwich. After lunch I returned to wrestle the landscaping fabric into place. Once the fabric was down, I could finally start planting flowers.

I spread the pansies out across the beds at the front of the house, and planted one pot of lilies in a shady spot on the north end of the porch.

It was early evening by the time I had everything arranged, planted and watered thoroughly. I took a few steps back to admire my work. There was still a lot to do. I would need to get a load of mulch delivered, and I needed to cut some of the larger shrubs way back before they took over, but that could wait for another day.

I was about to clean up my tools when I realized that I still had a few pansies and one pot of lilies left. I didn't want them to go to waste, but I wasn't ready to clear a spot in the back yard yet.

At that moment, my eyes wandered to the cemetery. I could just make out the lonely grave at the far end. I knew where I wanted to plant them.

I picked my trowel and the remaining flowers, and walked over to the headstone.

"Edward, it doesn't look like anyone here still remembers you, but I don't want you to think that you are totally forgotten. As long as I'm here I'll take care of you."

I dug three small holes in front of the stone, placing the pansies on the ends, and the lilies in the middle.

"Alice said that the pansies are for loving thoughts and the lilies of the valley are for sweetness, humility, and return of happiness. I don't know much about your life or death other than your life was way too short. I hope that you lived it to the fullest while you were here, and that you are truly happy wherever you are now."

Kneeling in front of his grave, I couldn't help feeling bittersweet. I was starting out again in life, something I wouldn't have thought possible a year ago. Still, I couldn't help feeling like I had already missed my greatest chance at happiness, and I couldn't help but think that Edward had too.

_**EPOV**_

_**She was back again, the angel with the big brown eyes. Each time she appeared or called me forth, she filled my soul with strength. With enough energy to push aside the sleepiness and leave my resting place to rejoin the world I had left so long ago.**_

_**Again, I was drawn to her. My world and my thoughts centered around her. She was now like a bonfire shining on a dark night. Her light pushed back the darkness and filled me with happiness and calm.**_

_**When she spoke my name, a shiver rippled through my soul. That was all that was left of me. I had no physical body to feel any more, but my soul could feel the tenderness and caring in her voice as the sound rolled from her lips. I watched as she carefully planted the flowers, and when she rose to return home, I followed as surely as a balloon on a string pulled by a child.**_

_**I could never get enough of her. Just watching her filled me with happiness and contentment. She went about her evening routine, washing the dirt from her hands, and fixing a sandwich for dinner.**_

_**After dinner, she went up to the little room at the top of the stairs and proceeded to undress. I was shocked at the sight of her bare, with only a thin piece of fabric covering her soft white breasts. It finally dawned on me that she was not really an angel, but a woman made of flesh and blood as I had once been.**_

_**I turned away, giving her privacy. I was raised to be a gentleman, and I was determined to remain so, even in death. She bathed, and emerged looking clean and fresh. Her long brown hair was still wet, but had been combed smooth. She wore a pair of cotton pants, and a tight cotton shirt, that left nothing to the imagination. I tried to divert my view again, but she made no move to put on any additional clothing, and I could only pause a few moments before I was drawn back to the vision of her.**_

_**I followed as she walked back down the stairs and curled up on a chair with a book.**_

"_**Well, Edward," she spoke my name, and another shiver rippled through my soul. "Let's see what your sister has to say tonight."**_

_**My sister? Rosalie? How had I had forgotten about her? She faded away like everyone in my former life, but just the mention of my sister brought memories tumbling back.**_

_**I looked at the cover of the book my angel held in her hands. There, in my sister's writing was the title, "Diary of Rosalie Masen."**_

June 20, 1917

I'm so excited! There is to be a dance next week at the fire hall to raise money for the war effort, and now that we are seventeen, Jane and I have been given permission to attend. I have the perfect dress picked out. It's a beautiful white organza with lace sleeves that reach just below my elbows. Jane's sister, Kate, said that I should meet them at their house to get dressed so that she can do my hair. It's probably for the best. I don't want to flaunt it in father's face for fear he won't let me attend.

I've never danced with a boy except for the dance lessons mother gave to me and my brothers. I always hated dancing with James. He dances divinely, but is so impatient with me that I can't help making mistakes. Edward is a much better dance partner. He is always patient with me and knows just how to lead me through the steps with just the slightest pressure of his hand. We can float gracefully around the room like we are dancing on a cloud.

Edward doesn't usually attend the dances. He says he gets too bored with all the silly girls giggling behind their hands and trying to catch his eye, hoping he will ask them for a dance. It surprised me when he said that he planned to attend tomorrow. I think he is only going to keep an eye on me. Hopefully he won't scare all my dance partners away.

Oh my! What if nobody asks me to dance? I will die of humiliation! Maybe it's a good thing Edward will be there. I know he will be kind and dance with me at least once. I hope the other boys can dance as well as him. It would be awful to have to dance with some uncoordinated oaf. That would almost be worse than dancing with nobody at all.

Sat. July 7, 1917

How could one night be both the best and worst nights of my existence all rolled into one?

I was so excited to get to the dance. Jane and I both wore our best white lace dresses. Jane's sister, Kate, curled our hair into ringlets that we wore long down our backs. I thought we both looked divine, at least until Kate emerged from her room twenty minutes later. She had done her own hair in a lovely twist at the back of her head with a flower above her ear to set it off just perfectly. I couldn't help but think that Jane and I would look like little girls in comparison, and it severely dampened my spirits as a result.

When she was finally ready we all set out. It was only a few blocks, but Kate was adamant that Alec drive us in their father's new Ford.

I was so nervous as I walked into the hall, almost as nervous as Jane. She gripped my hand so tightly that my fingers were starting to tingle. The music had already begun and the floor was crowded with couples dancing the foxtrot. It pained me to have missed even a minute, but Kate insisted that nobody arrived on time.

Thank goodness Mother had the foresight to teach us all the latest steps. Now, I thought, if only I could find a partner, the evening would be perfect.

Jane and I found a spot along the wall and watched the couples twirl by. I managed to catch a glimpse of Edward a few times but I could never catch his eye. After a few dances, with no partner in sight for either myself or Jane, I was starting to think I was doomed to be a wall flower. I was ready to die of embarrassment.

Jane seemed glued to her spot, but finally I managed to dislodge her and lead her around the edge of the hall toward the refreshments.

As we made our way through the hall, we passed several men leaning up against the wall who positively leered at us as we walked by. I could see Jane becoming increasingly self-conscious. As we moved past them her step quickened, and her grip on my hand tightened to an almost painful level.

We were almost past the lot of them when one spoke in a low voice, "Flat as a board."

Jane immediately burst into tears and ran from the room. I was shocked. I turned and looked at him. He looked to be about Edward's age but I had never seen him before.

"What are you looking at, Miss Masen?"

"I don't know who you are, but I'm surprised they let ignorant louts like you into an affair like this," I snapped.

He laughed at me. "Well, I thought they weren't supposed to let little girls in. Tell your friend to come back when she's filled out a bit. A man doesn't want to dance with a woman who has the figure of a wooden plank."

My fury surged and before I could control it I slapped his face hard. My hand hurt from the shock of it. His eyes flashed with anger, but my mind barely registered it before I turned and ran after Jane.

It took me some time, but I finally found her outside in the alley next to the hall having a small conniption fit. After several minutes she calmed down and dried her eyes. I tried to convince her not to let him ruin our night, but I feared that it wouldn't be possible to salvage it.

Just as I had her convinced that we should go back in and at least watch the rest of the dance, the devil himself turned the corner into our alley with two of his friends.

"Royce, it's your little girlfriend," one of his friends said.

"I thought they sent the little girls home long ago," Royce sneered.

I tried to pull Jane past them, but he caught my arm. "Where are you going, Miss Rosalie?" His eyes dropped down to my chest. "You've turned into quite the young lady. I wouldn't mind a turn on the dance floor with you in my arms. Or a turn in the hay for that matter." His friends snickered behind him.

"I would not dance with you if you were the last man on earth!" I shouted, pretending not to hear the cruder of the comments.

I tried to pull my arm back but Royce yanked me tight to him, wrapping his other arm around my waist. "I don't think so. This feels awfully cozy." I tried to struggle away but Royce just tightened his grip while his friends laughed at my futile efforts to free myself.

"Royce, take your hands off my sister!" Royce froze, but didn't resist as I yanked myself free. I wasted no time grabbing Jane's arm and pulling her to safety behind Edward.

"Well, if it isn't young Mr. Masen, here to defend his sister's honor."

"My sister's honor is not at stake here. Your job in my father's factory is." Edward replied coolly.

Royce's friends laughed again at this comment, but I could see the anger flash in his face. "Your father won't fire me. My father did a little favor for him last week when the tax inspectors were poking around. If anything, he owes us. I wouldn't mind collecting from his daughter."

I have never seen Edward so furious. He threw a punch that caught Royce square in the jaw, but he recovered quickly. He charged back at Edward as his friends circled behind. Jane and I screamed as one caught Edward from behind as Royce landed a fist in his stomach.

Suddenly another man pushed past us to join the fight. He was tall and broad-shouldered, and was clearly all muscle. Royce and his friends were no match for him. With one punch he laid Royce flat on his back. This provided enough distraction for Edward to tear himself free of his captor. He turned quickly, but as soon as they saw Royce on the ground his friends ran like cowards.

Edward turned back to Royce who was slowly picking himself off the ground while eyeing the new threat. "Royce, if you ever lay a finger on my sister again, I swear I will destroy you," he threatened.

Royce didn't say anything. He just stood there rubbing his jaw, not taking his eyes off the large man standing next to Edward.

"You are no longer welcome. Get the hell out of here!" the large man bellowed.

Royce turned and ran back down the alley after his friends.

My heart was beating a thousand times a minute, but not from fear. I had been terrified when Jane and I were alone in the alley with Royce and his friends, and my fear was amplified when Edward stepped forward to take on the three of them at once. But the minute the handsome stranger appeared I knew that he would protect us all.

It was thrilling to watch the way he knocked Royce down with one punch. I could almost see the muscles flexing beneath his coat. For the first time in my life I had the urge to touch a man, to run my hands down his strong arms as I felt his hands circle my waist.

"Hey, Edward, are you all right?" My stranger patted Edward on the shoulder.

Edward winced slightly, but replied, "Yeah, thanks, Emmett. I guess taking on three of them at once wasn't the best idea."

At that moment, Jane's sobs caught their attention and both men turned back to us.

Edward caught us both up in his arms. I gave him a quick hug to let him know that I was fine, but Jane continued to sob hysterically into his chest.

"Shh, it's okay. They're gone." Edward tried to comfort her patting her back softly. He flashed me a wide-eyed look of panic. I had to stifle a giggle. It was so funny to see my normally calm cool brother so ruffled by a crying girl.

I wasn't the only one to find the situation humorous. The handsome stranger chuckled next to me. "Looks like you've got your hands full, Edward. I guess I'll have to introduce myself." He turned to me taking my hand gently. "Emmett McCarty."

"Emmett, this is my sister, Rosalie. Rose, Emmett is the new foreman down at the factory."

"It… it's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. McCarty," I stammered.

"The pleasure is all mine, Miss Rosalie," he said, placing a kiss on the back of my hand.

Jane's sobbing calmed down as she realized that she was missing out on the introduction to the handsome stranger.

Edward saw his chance for escape. He turned Jane around in his arms to face Emmett. "And this is Rose's friend, Jane."

Emmett took her hand and kissed it as he did mine, causing my heart to skip a beat. "Miss Jane," was all he said, but I wanted to snatch her hand away and draw his attention back to myself.

Jane gave him a brief smile as she tried to fight her sniffling. I immediately felt bad for my reaction. She was having a terrible evening and he had just been trying to put her at ease.

Emmett seemed determined to restore a lighter atmosphere to the evening. "Well, ladies, the night is young, and I can't imagine that Edward and I could find more lovely partners for a turn on the dance floor. Would you do us the honor?" He offered his arm to me, and without even thinking, I slipped my hand into it.

Jane gripped Edward's arm in a similar fashion. He looked slightly uncomfortable, but was too well-mannered to do anything to disappoint her. When Emmett led the way back into the dance hall they followed behind us.

The dancers twirled around the hall in a fast Viennese Waltz, oblivious to the drama that had just unfolded outside. I could almost imagine that it hadn't happened. I had thought the night was ruined, but here I was on the arm of the most handsome man I had ever seen. I would put up with a thousand men like Royce to meet one Emmett.

Edward and Jane joined us at the edge of the dance floor. I turned to smile at her in encouragement, but gasped when I saw Edward's face. His eye was starting to bruise terribly and his lower lip was cut with a trickle of blood running down the side of his chin.

Emmett took one look at him and dropped my arm to grab his. "Edward, you can't dance with a pretty lady looking like you just fended off a pack of thugs to win her favors, even if it is true. Come on let's get you cleaned up." He turned back to us, the epitome of politeness, "Ladies, if you will, please meet us back in this spot in ten minutes."

Edward released Jane's arm but turned and said, "Yes, please wait for us. We would be heartbroken to return only to find you in the arms of two other men." His charm had obviously reappeared the minute we reentered the hall.

Jane and I agreed and watched as they walked into the Gentlemen's lounge. I took one look at Jane and decided that we needed to make a similar effort.

"Come, Jane. I think we need to freshen up too." I pulled her into the Ladies lounge where I helped her wash her face, and smooth her hair.

We were both feeling much better when we met our dance partners back at the agreed upon spot. Edward and Emmett were already standing there. Edward still had a black eye and a bruised lip, but the blood had been washed away making him look presentable.

Emmett smiled and clapped Edward on the back when he saw us. "Ah, there they are. I told you they wouldn't stand us up," as if either Jane or I could fathom such a thing.

The band ended their song and started a slow foxtrot. Edward stepped forward offering his hand to Jane, "Miss Jane, will you do me the honor?"

She blushed, suppressing a giggle, and took his hand. I always knew she had a bit of a crush on him, but if he didn't turn down the charm a little he would have her following him like a puppy.

Emmett held out his hand in a similar fashion. "Miss Rosalie?"

I wanted to giggle as Jane had done, but I managed to keep a serene smile on my face as we stepped out onto the dance floor.

He took my right hand in his left and placed his other hand gently on my back. The minute he touched me there I felt a shiver run up my spine.

With the slightest pressure from his hand we began to move. This was nothing like dancing with my brothers. It felt as if we were two parts of the same whole. We glided around the room effortlessly, my feet barely touching the ground.

We talked a bit as we danced, about his job in my father's factory and my schooling. For once I managed to keep my mouth from running on about frivolous things. For some reason this man's opinion of me mattered more than that of anyone else I had ever met.

The evening flew by. We only missed one dance when we stopped so that he could get me a drink. It was pure bliss.

Jane's brother, Alec, was waiting outside with the car as we exited the hall. He offered Jane a ride, but she declined in favor of a leisurely walk clinging to Edward's arm. Alec seemed to find Edward's panicked look amusing as he hopped in his car with a smirk and drove off with Kate.

The four of us walked back in relative silence, each contemplating the evening and its potential implications. Edward stopped at Jane's front door where they thanked him for walking them home. He replied that it was a pleasure. I think Jane was hoping for a goodnight kiss, but Edward was determined to keep his lips to himself, and finally Kate pulled her in the door.

The three of us proceeded up the block to my front porch. I was dreading the thought of saying goodnight to Emmett, particularly with my brother there to watch. There was no way I would get a good night kiss with a chaperone in tow.

I need not have worried. Emmett was once again the perfect gentleman. He took my hand and said, "Miss Rosalie, thank you for a most unexpectedly pleasurable evening." Then he kissed my hand. The moment his lips touched my skin I felt a searing heat as if I had been touched by a flame, permanently etching the kiss in my skin. I would never forget it.

"Go on up, Rose, I want to talk to Emmett for a few minutes," Edward said, prodding me along.

I reluctantly went in, hurrying up to my room in the hope that I could hear something of their conversation through my open window.

I was in luck. They stood on the corner of the front porch not far from my window discussing the fight and Royce's intentions. Edward then turned the conversation to the rest of the evening.

"Emmett, I thought you said we were going to have one or two dances to bring up their spirits, and then leave them together for the rest of the night."

"I know what I said," Emmett's voice grudgingly replied.

"I think Jane is hopelessly attached to me now. She's a nice girl and all, but the last thing I want right now is my little sister's friend following me around all summer." Edward didn't know how right he was. I could tell that Jane had fallen hard.

"And what do you mean by spending the entire evening with my sister? You're already walking on thin ice, my friend."

"I don't know, Edward. Once I had her I just didn't want to let go. I couldn't bear to hand her off to some other bastard like Royce. She's got the makings of a heartbreaker." Suddenly, my heart was soaring. Once I was in Emmett's arms it never occurred to me that I should dance with anyone else. My heart pounded at the thought that he felt the same way.

"Just see that you don't break her heart. You know my father would never approve of the two of you. He would fire you in an instant. Then where would you be?" Fired? Surely father wouldn't do that.

"You're right. I don't know what came over me. Your sister's a good kid. Seeing her all dolled up like that makes it easy to forget she's still a kid. I'll be careful to keep my distance." No! At once my soaring heart plummeted into the pit of my stomach.

"Thanks for your help, by the way. I would have been in real trouble without you."

"Any time. Can't just stand by and let the boss's son get the shit beat out of him. Besides, it looked like your sister was about to step in. As entertaining as that would have been there was no way I was about to let that happen. Royce would have lost his balls for sure." I cringed at the vulgarity. It couldn't get any worse. Emmett not only thought I was still a child, but a tom-boy as well.

Edward laughed. "You're probably right."

"Well, I had better be going."

"Yeah, I'll see you tomorrow."

I heard the door close.

Edward was right about one thing. It didn't take much for Emmett to sweep me off my feet and break my heart. He managed to do it all in one night. I crawled into bed and fell asleep sobbing into my pillow.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

Thanks to Spikey for agreeing to be my Beta! Yeah! She spent a lot of time getting this chapter whipped into shape. I can't thank her enough, and I promise to learn from her thorough feedback. My husband also thanks you because it lets him off the hook.

I also want to thank Thaiger Lillie for recommending my story on Twitter. She was also kind enough to make the great new banner that I have posted on Twilighted. She is super-talented. She and her friends also have some great story reviews posted on their new blog. Check it out:

http:/ /twificbitches .blogspot .com

Last, I want to thank everyone who has read and reviewed my humble little story. I'm glad so many people have enjoyed it. It also makes my husband jealous because the story he posts to a history site gets hardly any response. I told him he doesn't use enough smut but he doesn't think that's it. I realize my own story doesn't have any smut either, but patience, dear readers.


	4. Chapter 4:  Special Delivery

Chapter 4 – Special Delivery

Disclaimer: Twilight is owned by Stephenie Meyer. I am only borrowing a few of her characters. The remainder of the story is my own. No reproduction is permitted without my written consent.

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The first week in my new home flew by quickly. I spent most of it outside gardening, or cleaning inside when it rained. I awoke each morning with a seemingly endless supply of energy, and went to bed each night feeling pleasantly exhausted. I couldn't remember ever simply enjoying life like this before, certainly not since I married Jake.

The clouds were threatening rain, so I spent the day inside unpacking boxes in my bedroom. I hadn't brought much with me, but unpacking was still time consuming. My things tended to be either necessities like my bedside lamp, or items with sentimental value.

From the bottom of the cardboard box, I pulled my jewelry case. It was wrapped it in newspaper and tape to keep it from opening during the move. I was excited to find this box, as I had been wearing the same pair of earrings since I packed it two weeks before, and I was feeling the need for some variety.

I carefully removed the wrappings and opened the box. To my dismay, nothing had gotten lost, but the contents looked like they had been shaken upside down. I sighed. It wasn't like I had anything better to do while I waited. I was expecting a special delivery today and was feeling impatient for its arrival.

I carefully separated several necklaces that had gotten tangled together, and then set to work matching up earrings when my fingers touched something smooth. I pulled out a simple gold band. It was my wedding ring. I had forgotten it was in here. Quickly, I rooted through the remaining jumble and found the diamond engagement ring that I had always worn with it.

Without thinking, I slipped the rings onto my finger. They fit perfectly, as if I had never taken them off, but they brought with them the weight of my past. Memories of my marriage to Jake came tumbling back.

The last year of our marriage had been marked by daily fights. Maybe fight is not the right word. Jake screamed at me and I took it silently. My nights were spent lying awake filled with feelings of failure over my crumbling marriage, cowardice over whether I could ever break free, and fear over how I would survive on my own. The situation was hardly conducive to sleep. The hardest thing I had ever done was to get the divorce papers drawn up.

The day Jake found them was the worst day of my life. I had planned to be far away when they were presented to him. The minute he saw them, and understood what I was asking for, he blew up. It was my worst nightmare. He called me a lying whore who was trying to ruin his life. He accused me of sleeping around and asked who the bastard was that I was leaving him for. I tried to explain that I just needed out, that we had gotten married too young, that I wasn't happy, but he couldn't accept that.

Jake's entire body was red with anger. His hand quaked as he reached for me. I thought I had finally pushed him over the edge into full physical violence, but somehow he pulled back. He grabbed the car keys, jumped into my car and tore out of the driveway. That was the last time I ever saw him alive.

I ran upstairs quickly to pack a bag of necessities so that I could get out of the house. I didn't know where Jake had gone or for how long, but I was determined to be gone before he came back. It didn't take me long to get ready because I had already started to gather the things I would need when I finally left him.

Back in the kitchen, I looked for my keys. My level of panic started to rise when I couldn't find them anywhere. Finally, I looked out the window and realized that Jake had taken my car. He had been changing the brakes on his truck that day and took my car into town to pick up a part. That was when he found the papers in the glove compartment.

It finally hit me that I was stranded here with no means of transportation. I grabbed my cell phone and tried to call my dad, but he was working and didn't answer. I tried Jake's dad, Billy, next with no luck. Jasper was out of town. There was nobody else to call.

The sound of a car in the driveway brought my panic to new heights. I grabbed my bag and the cell phone, and bolted for the bedroom, locking the door behind me. If Jake returned, I was calling the police.

I had dialed 911 and was about to hit the send button when I heard the doorbell ring. Jake wouldn't ring the bell. In fact, I was worried that even the locked bedroom door wouldn't hold him up for long. I looked out my window and saw a police car parked in the driveway.

I ran downstairs and flung open the front door to find a State Trooper there. He asked if I was Mrs. Black. A knot of fear formed in my stomach as I stammered out a yes. He told me that Jake had been killed in a car crash an hour earlier. He tried to pass another car on a blind curve, hitting a truck head on.

For the next year, my sleep had been filled with nightmares alternating between that day, and the day I had to look into Billy's eyes and tell him that his son was gone.

Even though I had grown to hate and fear Jake, I loved Billy. He was like a second father to me. Billy loved me like a daughter, almost as much as he loved and doted on his son. He never saw Jake's violent domineering side. I was torn between feelings of relief from being free from Jake and guilt because I took Billy's son from him.

I had plans for the diamond ring, so I put it in my pocket. It had been more of a gift from Billy than Jake. It had belonged to Billy's mother. She had given it to her son when he found the love of his life. When Billy heard the news of our marriage, he insisted that I wear it along with my wedding band.

I tried to give it back to him after Jake's death, but he wouldn't accept it. He told me to keep it, saying that even though Jake was gone, I was still his daughter. Gaining Billy as a father-in-law was the one good thing that came out of my marriage. I loved him almost as much as I loved my own dad. I was glad to know that I hadn't lost him when Jake died.

I placed the wedding band back in the jewelry case, tucking away any thoughts of Jake along with it. I was feeling great this morning and didn't want to bring myself down. Besides, I had to get up and get dressed before the delivery men got here. My piano was scheduled to be delivered today.

The piano had been in my mother's family for years. It was an old upright style player piano, with boxes of old music rolls. My father tried to throw it out when he re-married after my mother died, but I wouldn't let him. Jake and a few of his friends managed to move it to our place when we got married. It was too big to fit in the little moving truck when I moved here, and I didn't think Jasper and I would be able to handle it on our own, so I had it shipped separately.

I dressed quickly and went down to the kitchen for some breakfast. I started a pot of coffee and ate a quick bowl of cereal for breakfast.

The delivery was scheduled for any time between eight and noon. Knowing my luck it would be noon or later. I busied myself with cleaning and arranging for the morning. I unpacked a few more boxes, and in one I found my small sewing kit.

That reminded me of the ring I put in my pocket. I pulled out a spool of thread and cut a long piece from it. Using a box to stand on, I pulled the diamond ring from my pocket and hung it from the curtain rod in the picture window.

It was the wrong time of day for the sun, but I hoped that in the evening the ring would act as a sun catcher. I gave it a quick spin with my fingers, thinking fondly once again about Billy.

I busied myself unpacking more boxes for the rest of the morning. Unpacking took me a long time because I tended to get lost in the contents of each one. Morning stretched into afternoon when finally there was a knock at the door. I jumped up at the sound of it.

I yanked open the door to find a short man with beady brown eyes and short greasy hair staring at me. He wore an old faded pair of blue jeans with brand new work boots and a t-shirt that read 'Hank's Delivery Service'.

"Hello, Ma'am. I'm Chuck, from Hank's Delivery Service. I have a piano for you. Just sign here." He handed me the paperwork and tapped his foot while I scribbled my signature.

As I looked over the papers, a commotion arose out in the yard.

"No, no wait! You're gonna drop it!"

"Okay, easy now. Roll it down!"

Outside in my front yard, two other workmen were not so carefully wheeling my prize piano down a ramp from the truck. The only problem was that it wasn't my piano.

"Um, I think you have the wrong one." I said to the man in front of me.

"No, I don't, says here a Steinway baby grand. You signed it." He looked at me as if the paperwork could not be wrong, so I must be crazy.

"I didn't read every last detail. I want my piano!" I ran out to the truck.

"Stop!" I yelled to the workmen. One of them, dressed in cutoff shorts and a 'Hank's delivery' t-shirt stopped and stared at me open-mouthed. The other, tall and muscular, in a pair of faded Levi's jeans and an old black concert t-shirt, leaned over and banged his head on the piano he had just man-handled out of the truck.

I peered around them into the dim interior. Sure enough, there was another piano. It was an old beat-up Aeolian player piano. The finish was dry and bubbled, and the A-key was stuck, but it was mine.

"That's my piano," I said, pointing.

"Fuck!" The guy in the black t-shirt banged his head one more time before barking orders again. "All right, asshat, load her back up again." They rolled the cart with the baby grand slowly back up the truck, and then they moved over to un-strap my piano. They had placed it on rollers to ease the move, but it was still big and bulky.

I cringed as they manhandled it in through the door. The stream of obscenities kept flowing from the tall one, but I didn't say anything since he was the only one who seemed to know what he was doing.

"Slide it into that corner." I pointed to the spot I had picked out for it the day I moved in.

The short one shoved it hard, taking most of the carpet with it.

"Now look what you did to the nice lady's carpet, you dumbass!"

He pulled it back so that the carpet was smooth again. "Now help me lift this motherfucker up." They strained under the weight, but finally got it set in place. As soon as it was arranged to the tall one's satisfaction, the short one, who looked like he was about to burst into tears, zipped out the door and back into the truck.

Chuck hadn't said a word throughout the whole ordeal, but now came to his senses. "Thanks for using 'Hank's Delivery Service'. Remember us the next time you have something big, bulky, or just plain obnoxious to ship." With that, he followed the other guy back out into the truck. He didn't waste any time starting it up, and flooring the gas to get out of the driveway. I was left watching from the porch with Mr. Levi's.

"Wait," I called after them. I know he was an ass, but how could they just drive off without him?

"Bunch of idiots, they have their heads so far up their asses, it's a wonder they can see to drive."

I turned to look at the man next to me. "I thought you worked with them."

He stared back incredulously. "Look, I may be hard up, but I could never work with a bunch of dipshits like those guys. I'd go fucking insane."

Over in the spot behind where the delivery truck had sat was a small beat-up Chevy pickup truck. It took me a second to connect this vehicle to the man still standing in front of me. He was obviously here for some other reason, but I couldn't guess what it would be.

"So did you just stop by to boss around the delivery guys or do you need something?"

He laughed. "Lady, you should be thanking me for getting that motherfucker in here in one piece. I don't know how those asshats ever got it loaded onto the truck."

"The ones who picked it up were much more competent," I conceded, "so I guess you're right. Thanks?" I waited expectantly. He still hadn't given me a clue as to why he was here.

Standing here next to him, I started to realize that for the first time in years, I was alone with a man other than Jake or a member of my family. I played nervously with the watch on my wrist while I waited for him to say something.

He sighed and ran his fingers back through his hair. "Right," he mumbled. "Well, I was in town this morning fixing the door for Mrs. Keller when she mentioned that you were looking for some help remodeling this place."

"Mrs. Keller?"

"Yeah, Betty Keller? Crazy lady who owns the book shop?"

"Oh, I didn't know her last name."

"Yeah, well she was my high school English teacher. We used to call her Bat-shit Betty because she was so fucking nuts, but that isn't exactly good for polite company." I was confused. Did this mean I was considered polite company or not?

I still didn't know what to make of him. He was starting to make me uncomfortable. I hadn't had a one-on-one conversation like this with a guy other than Jake since, well, ever. Jake had always scared them off before.

As if that weren't enough, I had started to realize that he was attractive in a dirty country boy kind of way. He was tall and thin, but wiry as if he'd spent his summers doing farm work. His old black t-shirt and faded Levi's jeans molded to his body as if he had been born wearing them.

"So Betty sent you?" I don't know how I managed to get the words out at this point, but silence would have been even more awkward.

"Yeah, she said she met you last week." He looked up at the house, already assessing just how much work might need to be done. "Do you have a good idea of what you want to do or do you just plan to take it one step at a time?" I had been gazing at his face, but I had to look down as soon as he caught my eye again.

Why was I acting like this? I had no trouble talking to Jasper, or anyone else here in town. Why was I suddenly flustered? The attraction really freaked me out, but there was something else there too. Something about him just felt wrong, but I couldn't put my finger on it.

"Um…" I closed my eyes to focus on an answer to his question. "I guess I want to start with the bathroom at the top of the stairs. It has some loose tiles and the fixtures need some work. I'm not very good with plumbing."

"Can I see it?" I shrugged my shoulders and turned around to lead the way into the house.

He skipped up the stairs quickly taking two at a time before stepping into the bathroom ahead of me.

I watched as he poked and prodded the walls and plumbing fixtures in the bathroom. If I thought standing on the porch with him was uncomfortable, having him in my bathroom was ten times worse. I stood wordlessly with my arms wrapped tightly around my body trying not to look at his hands as they poked and prodded the tiles, or his ass in those tight jeans as he bent under the sink to inspect the plumbing. I was marginally successful.

"What a piece of shit!" his voice echoed from under the sink. "Your drain pipe is just about corroded through. It's already developed a small leak. You need to replace it right away or you will have a hell of a mess on your hands." He extracted himself smoothly from under the sink, then stood and plucked off a loose tile from the bathtub wall. "And see here?" The wall underneath the tile crumbled as he poked it with his finger. "Whoever the fucking cheapskate was that remodeled this bathroom used regular drywall instead of cement board."

"Is that bad?" I asked. Obviously it was bad if the wall was crumbling apart behind it.

"Yeah, it's bad. We're going to have to tear the whole goddamned wall out. You don't want mold growing back there." The mention of mold growing in my walls sent a shiver of disgust down my spine. I clutched my arms even tighter around my body.

"Alright, here's the deal. I charge ten bucks an hour, cash under the table. I get off work at two, so I can usually be here by two thirty, unless they are paying me for overtime, which hardly ever happens since the recession hit. Fucking budget cuts!"

He turned and ran down the stairs as quickly as he had come up. I followed as fast as I could, but he turned abruptly at the bottom, not letting me take the final step. We were at eye level, and for the first time I had no choice but to look him in the eye.

His face was handsome, but not perfect. His unruly hair looked light brown here in the house, but I know I had seen highlights of red in it when he was outside. His chin was finely sculpted. It could have belonged to a supermodel, but his nose was slightly off center, just barely disrupting the perfect symmetry. It was his eyes that were the most striking. He looked at me with deep dark brown eyes that seemed like a window into his soul, but somehow they felt out of place with the rest of the picture.

"Do we have a deal?" He smirked slightly as if he knew what effect he had standing this close to me.

Something about this still felt uncomfortable, but he had been recommended. I had thought about just taking it on myself, but after seeing the problems upstairs, I knew I was in over my head.

I mustered up all the courage I could find and said, "Yes, we have a deal."

He smiled back confidently. "Great. I'm tied up today, but I'll be back tomorrow afternoon." Then he turned and stepped out the front door. I thought he was going to run down the steps, but he turned suddenly to face me again.

"Hey, what's your name?" he asked.

I blushed. "Oh, sorry, I thought you knew who I was. Isabella Swan." He held out his hand to shake, but I hesitated. Jake wouldn't have liked it, and old habits die hard. I placed my hand tentatively in his, but he gripped it and shook it hard.

"I'm Anthony Cullen. I live just down the road and around the corner." The name surprised me. It just wasn't what I was expecting. It puzzled me that I was expecting anything since he was a stranger.

"Nice to meet you, Isabella." He smirked at my unease, then finally dropped my hand. "I'll see you tomorrow. We'll hit the hardware store for supplies, so bring your checkbook." And before I knew it, he had climbed back in his truck and disappeared down the road.

As I watched him drive away, the answer to his identity popped into my head. He was the picture of Edward. The strong features, the bronze hair, the broad shoulders, everything. Except the eyes. Where Rose described Edward's eyes as a piercing emerald green, Anthony's deep brown looked out of place.

He was another puzzle to be solved, but I was patient. He would be back tomorrow. Eventually I would figure out the connection between them.

**EPOV**

Anthony Cullen!

The moment he stepped off the truck I recognized him as family. How could I not? It was like looking in a mirror. His face was my face. Every line and feature I had seen before. His nose had been broken and not reset properly, but still, I recognized it as my own. He even had my middle name.

His clothing was different from anything I had ever worn, but the body underneath was mine. Where my muscles had been hardened by war, his were hardened by manual labor.

The only difference was his eyes. The eyes provided the clue I needed to finally figure out just who this imposter was. Instead of my mother's green eyes, the deep brown eyes of my father peered from his face. The same color he passed on to my brother, James.

People had always commented on how James and I looked almost like twins when we were young. The comments waned as we grew older. The adult James was slightly taller and thinner than me, his face more angular, but it was the gaping differences in our personalities that truly set us apart. Seeing his great-grandson here after all these years brought home once again just how alike yet different my brother and I were. Anthony, by some quirk of nature, had inherited the best of our physical features.

It was almost painful to see a near perfect copy of the physical body that had failed me so many years ago. In that moment the memories of what it had felt like to be alive bombarded me. I longed to flex my muscles and feel the burn as I lifted that heavy piano. I could almost feel the rush of the physical exertion, building up the heat to drive the sweat from my pores… but not quite.

The numbness at the lack of sensation was too much. I almost fled the scene. I wanted nothing more than to hide back in the blackness of my grave and forget again what I had lost, but I couldn't. The pull of life was still strong here. I could feel her still standing there in the doorway, even when my sight was directed elsewhere. I would not or could not leave my angel's side. So I stayed to watch the scene unfold and determine what kind of man my great-nephew was.

The first word out of his mouth told me everything I needed to know. Now, I knew from experience that the only men who could curse worse than sailors were soldiers in the trenches. I had said that word during my enlistment in the army more times than I could count, but I would never have said it in front of a lady. Even my brother James wasn't that crass.

Anthony's only redeeming quality was that he seemed to be the only one of the three men that knew what he was doing. With a burst of pride I realized that at least some of the Masen intelligence was passed down through the generations. I have no doubt that those idiots would have smashed the piano into a million pieces without him there.

Any positive emotion I felt was short lived however. Once the movers were gone I expected him to leave too. It had been comforting to see that the Masen line lives on, but seeing him alone with my angel gave me an uneasy feeling. Instead, he barged into the house and upstairs to inspect the bathroom. Before I knew it they had a deal that would bring him here into the house alone with her several times a week.

I was fuming. When her back was turned I could see his eyes travel up and down her body, over the clothes that hugged her curves so tightly, leaving nothing to the imagination. She seemed completely oblivious to it.

He knew he made her uncomfortable. I could see it in the knowing smirk on his face. Oh, how I wanted to wipe that smirk off of it. I could have done it too, if I were still alive. This only enraged me further. I was furious at being so helpless to influence the situation in front of me.

And then, he touched her hand. The jealousy emanated from me in waves. I would give anything to be able to touch her. I could almost imagine the feel of her smooth, warm hand in mine. But it was Anthony, not me, who received that honor. I could see that he didn't even appreciate it properly.

I was so consumed by my anger towards him that I almost missed the one gift he gave me. Her name. I had been following my angel's every move for three days now, but only now learned her name.

Isabella Swan.

It was a beautiful name, fitting somehow, for this angel that had become the focal point of my existence.

A crash from inside the house called my attention. I moved inside to find my angel bent over a large box, her head deep inside, books and smaller boxes flying as she searched.

It was almost humorous to see her digging so determinedly. For a moment I imagined what Anthony's reaction would have been on finding her like that, but I put that out of my mind as fast as I could. It was bad enough he would be here leering at her every chance he could get. I would not waste the time I had with her getting frustrated over something that was outside of my control.

Outside of my control. That just about summed up my entire existence at the moment.

Paper and other objects continued to fly from the box as Isabella searched relentlessly, oblivious to my bout of self-pity.

"There it is."

I looked up to see my angel pull a small glass box out from the bottom of the larger one. She smiled as she carefully opened the lid and pulled out a small key. Seeing her face again allowed me to push aside the darkness that had clouded my vision so that I was once again in charge of my emotions.

I watched with fascination as she inserted the key into a lock on a panel in the front of the piano and turned it with a click before sliding back the panel and exposing the spool box inside.

It was a player piano. I had seen a few before, and always wondered how they worked, but had never actually operated one.

As she stepped away to open another box, I moved closer to investigate.

The mechanism did not look complex, but I knew there was more hidden inside the body of the piano. A gold metal bar ran horizontally across the cavity with a row of holes along its center. Below that was a black spool with a metal tab. A piano roll could be inserted onto two pins at the top of the box. The end of the roll was then pulled over the gold bar and attached to the tab on the bottom spool.

When a hole in the paper passed over a hole in the bar it allowed air to flow, operating a valve, which in turn caused a note to be struck.

While I examined the piano, Isabella had pulled a pile of crumpled newspaper from the top of a box and was now carefully inspecting the contents. The larger box was filled with smaller square ones, labeled in elegant script. I watched as she ran her finger across each row until she smiled and pulled forth her selection. The box had looked small from the end, but was actually about twelve inches long.

Excitedly, she set it on the top of the piano, but as she did so, she accidentally knocked the small glass box off the edge. Isabella squealed sharply as she saw it fall.

Instinctively, I reached to catch it, just inches from the piano keys, knowing as I did that it was a futile effort. To my surprise, instead of crashing and breaking into a million pieces, the box paused in mid-air like a leaf caught by the wind, before landing on the keys with a soft thud.

Her breath caught in her throat. Carefully, she picked it up, inspecting every side. "Grandma Swan's ghost would have haunted me mercilessly if I had broken you," she whispered.

As she examined the box, I was hit by the full implication of what happened. It should have hit the keys hard! The delicate box should have shattered! There was nothing to stop it! Nothing, except my non-existent hand, or perhaps, my force of will.

Carefully, she set the little glass box down in a safer location in the center of the piano top.

I looked back at the box. If I could catch it, stop its fall, then I should be able to move it. I gathered every ounce of energy and effort I could muster, and imagined my hand reaching out to tap it. I just wanted to move it an inch, to prove I could, but it was to no avail. It must have been wishful thinking.

Isabella returned her attention to the box she had placed on the piano top. She opened it, lifted out a piano scroll, and expertly inserted it into the player mechanism. I watched in fascination as she pulled the parchment scroll across the tracker bar and hooked it on the spool below. She flipped a switch, the spindles began to turn, and the piano sprang to life.

To my surprise, the festive tones of the Prelude to Debussy's Suite Bergamasque rolled forth. It had been a long time since I had played, but this had been one of my favorite pieces, particularly the third movement, 'Claire de Lune'.

Isabella was overjoyed when the music began. I thought she might hug the piano if she could. Instead, she placed her fingers on the keys and tried to play along. I could see that she had never taken lessons.

After a few minutes and quite a few extra notes, she turned back to the box and began lining up a row of scrolls. As afternoon stretched into evening, she played each of the scrolls. As she removed them she put them carefully back in their small boxes, and sorted them into different piles according to some system known only to her.

I spent the time just listening and remembering. Each tune was like an old friend I had forgotten long before. There were a few I didn't recognize, but most I had heard often, and could play from memory.

After a time I found my thoughts wandering to the mystery that was Isabella Swan. For the past three days I'd spent every moment with this woman, yet she was still a mystery.

The boxes she was slowly unpacking led me to think that she was new here. She didn't seem to know many people. Anthony was the only person who paid her a visit, and he had clearly been a stranger.

Where did she come from? Had she been married? The ring in her jewelry box and the diamond hanging from a string in the window made me think that she had, but where was her husband? It was strange to see such a beautiful young woman living all alone in a house like this.

And what was this connection between the two of us? She felt it too. I know she did. Why else would she look at my picture, or talk to me as if I was standing right next to her?

It was all a mystery that would only unfold over time.

Isabella was quiet and introspective the rest of the day. I would have loved to be able to read her mind, but that was another power I didn't possess. Only once that evening did I hear her voice again.

She was curled up with a blanket in her chair looking at my picture when she whispered, "Edward, he looks so much like you."

* * *

**Author's Note:**

The Twi-fic Bitches have written a review of Lost Soul on their blog! If you haven't already seen it, check it out at:

http:/ /twificbitches .blogspot .com

Thaigher Lillie has also promised me an interview. I'll let you know when she posts it.

Thanks again to my awesome Beta, Spikey! I send her a near-perfect (in my eyes) chapter and she sends back a huge list of mistakes that I completely missed.

Thanks also to my readers. You guys make this whole effort worthwhile. Please leave a review! I want to know what you like or don't like, and what questions you have.

See you in two weeks!


	5. Chapter 5: Home Improvement

Chapter 5 - Home Improvement

Disclaimer: Twilight is owned by Stephenie Meyer. I am only borrowing a few of her characters. The remainder of the story is my own. No reproduction is permitted without my written consent.

A/N:

Thanks to my most excellent Beta, Spikey! I couldn't do this without her.

Song for this chapter: "Bullet with Butterfly Wings" by Smashing Pumpkins

'Despite all my rage I am still just a rat in a cage!'

* * *

BPOV:

My doorbell rang at three o'clock. He was only thirty minutes late. I really didn't know what to expect of Anthony Cullen. Apparently punctuality wasn't on the list.

I opened the door to find him leaning against the railing on the porch dressed in a t-shirt and blue jeans. I was immediately struck again by how much he resembled Edward. I only had the one picture to judge, but Anthony had become the living, breathing stand-in for the man I could only read about.

Anthony was leaning against the front railing, looking out in the distance, but as soon as he heard the door open he turned to face me. His eyes quickly took me in from head to toe. Those brown eyes still looked so out of place to me in that face. They were a constant reminder that this was Anthony, not Edward, here before me. As if I could forget.

"Ready?" he asked, a little harsher than I expected.

"I think so," I answered, suddenly shy again.

Anthony shook his head at me as if he expected something bolder. "Let's get this shit over with."

He stepped through the open door and ran up the stairs, two at a time again, to the bathroom at the top. By the time I arrived at the door, he was already crouched under the sink, assessing the damages.

"All right," he said as he climbed out from under the sink. He pulled a notepad from his back pocket and started making a list. "Basic plumbing we can get here in town, and I think I should fix that drip today. I'll pick up some cement board for behind the tile too."

He paused and looked around the room. "Okay, so what else needs to go? Baby-shit brown sink and toilet?"

I looked at the gold-brown toilet that never seemed to get clean. "Going, definitely."

Anthony noted those on his list. "Tub too, or just the fixtures?"

The tub was your basic, functional white tub. I didn't need anything too fancy there. "Just the fixtures, I think."

"All right. We're going to have to run to Home Depot in Buffalo for some of this. If you want, you can pick some things from their on-line catalog and I can pick them up next weekend."

"Okay," I agreed.

"Let's go." He turned and went back down the steps, walking for once, as he read over his list.

I wasn't sure I wanted to be alone in a car with him. He still made me uneasy. "You need me to go along? It's not like I need to pick anything out today. Can you just get what you need, and I'll write you a check?"

Anthony swore under his breath. I didn't realize I was being that difficult.

"Listen, nothing is easy in this shit-hole of a town. First of all, I operate on a cash-only basis. Second, if you want me to have time to fix that drip today, we need to get the parts here, which means you need to come along. If you want me to drive up to the city to get them, I can do that, but it will be a few days before I get back here to finish."

I started to interrupt his lecture, but he cut me off again.

"Don't ask why. It's just the way it is in this god-damned town. Now get in the truck so we can get this shit over with."

I didn't argue any further. Five minutes later the two of us were sitting in his truck for the short drive to town, shopping list in hand.

His truck was new by my standards, but it still must have had well over a hundred thousand miles on it. There was nothing fancy about the truck. Whoever bought it originally must have ordered the stock model with no bells or whistles. It didn't even have air conditioning, which meant that we had the windows down as we sped along the country road.

Between the rush of the air and the rock song blaring from the radio, it was impossible to hold a conversation. Anthony's fingers were white on the steering wheel as Smashing Pumpkins belted out their lyrics. His anger seemed to feed off the words of the song. I wondered what had made him so angry. He didn't seem to be mad at me, more at the world in general, but I still didn't have the nerve to question him on it.

His attitude made me uncomfortable. In some ways it reminded me of Jake and his unpredictable rages, but Anthony seemed to have a sense of control that Jake lacked.

I mentally chided myself for getting into such a situation with someone who clearly had personal issues to deal with, but then again, it wasn't the same as my relationship with Jake. I wasn't in love with Anthony, and I wasn't in any way dependent on him, beyond having to put up with a leaky sink for a few extra days until I found someone else to fix it.

Besides, Anthony was still a link to Edward. As much as I was put off by his coarse language and attitude, I wasn't willing to give up such a critical clue to my mystery.

Finally, the song ended with a blast of electric guitar, and a commercial took its place. While it played, Anthony turned down the volume enough for me to hear the sound of my own voice.

"So, where are we going?" I asked.

A look of irritation crossed his features. "Like I said, if we had more time, I'd run up to the Home Depot in the city, but I really want to get that sink drain fixed before you have a flood. That would be a hell of a mess to clean up. For now, we'll just grab a few parts at asshole Arty's hardware."

"Hey, I met Arty. He was really nice to me."

Anthony turned and looked at me, his eyes dropping down to my chest before switching back to the road in front of us.

"Yeah, I'll bet he was. A hot little number like you walks through the door, that old horn dog must have been practically drooling on the goddamn counter."

It was a warm summer day, so I was wearing a t-shirt and a pair of shorts, but I wished that I had a jacket to pull closed over myself. I didn't appreciate Anthony's leering or his way with words. I just hoped he could keep it under control when we were out in public.

"What do you have against Arty?" I asked.

"Nothing that bastard doesn't have against me," he replied, eyes still fixed on the road.

I didn't know what else to say after that. Fortunately it was only a short drive into town. As Anthony parked the truck, I jumped out my door and went into the hardware store ahead of him.

"Hey, Miss Swan," Arty greeted me as I walked through the door. "I was hoping you'd be in again before too long."

He looked exactly the same as the last time I saw him standing in his denim overalls behind the counter. I wondered briefly if he ever left.

"Hi, Arty." I smiled at him. "I'm having some work done on the house before it falls down around me, and needed a few things to get started."

"Well, I'd be glad to help you find what you're looking for. Do you have a list?" he replied, friendly as ever.

"Oh, Anthony has it." I looked over my shoulder at Anthony who had walked up behind me to the counter.

He was looking at Arty with a smirk on his face as if he was challenging him to toss him out of the store.

Arty's face hardened immediately, and for a moment I thought he would do just that. "I thought I told you that you aren't welcome here no more!" he said to Anthony.

"Yeah, well this is an emergency, and I'm not exactly doing the shopping here today, the nice lady is. You wouldn't want her to have to put up with a leaky drain just because of some old grudge you got against me."

"Why, you little," Arty started, but Anthony cut him off.

"Uh, uh, watch the language there, Arty." Anthony turned his back to the counter and walked off in search of my plumbing needs.

Arty had turned beet red at being chastised by Anthony. I thought he might have a heart attack on the spot, but instead he just banged his fist on the counter in anger.

"Sorry you had to see that," he said to me once he calmed down a bit. "Are you sure you want the likes of Anthony Cullen doing work in your home? He ain't exactly from a good family, and from what I hear he's headed down the same path as his old man."

"Well, he came recommended by Mrs. Keller," I said.

"Betty Keller? She always did have a soft spot for that boy. Never saw him for what he was."

He moved closer as if to whisper something to me. "See, the thing is, Betty's always been a bit loopy, but the past few years she's really gone off the deep end. That's why she's not teaching anymore. Assigned the senior class to read some French smut. Lolita, I think it was called. Once word got out what was in there, it musta been the first book the whole class read cover to cover." Arty laughed at his own joke.

"Anyways, what I'm sayin is that Betty's not exactly the best one to be makin recommendations. Now, if you need someone that badly, I'm sure I can make a few calls and get someone reliable for you later this week."

"Arty, I appreciate you looking out for me, but I already have a deal with Anthony. If he doesn't do a good job on the bathroom, I'll find someone else for the rest of the house."

Everything he said made me more nervous to be alone in the house with Anthony, but I wasn't going to stop now. I was determined to keep him around at least until I could figure out the connection between him and my Edward.

Anthony walked up from behind me and set a basket of parts on the counter. "The lady will also be needing three sheets of cement board. I'll pull the truck up around back to get them loaded while you ring her up." With that, he turned and walked out the door.

I could see that Arty was not happy at being ordered around by Anthony in his own store, but he rang up everything in the basket for me.

"You know, Miss Swan, I don't want you to get the wrong idea. You're welcome here any time. Just don't send that little, you know what, in here for something. He knows I warned him long ago that his money wasn't any good here."

"I'll remember. Thanks for helping me out, Arty." I walked to the door, relieved to be out from the middle of a conflict that had nothing to do with me.

"Take care, and remember my offer stands," he called after me.

I found Anthony with his truck at the loading dock behind the store. Arty appeared a minute later and grudgingly helped him load three pieces of cement board into the back.

With just a nasty look between them, Anthony pulled away and drove home with the radio blaring.

He didn't say a word the entire way home. I couldn't bring myself to even attempt to make my voice heard over the guitars screaming from Anthony's radio.

Once we arrived back at the house, Anthony didn't waste any time. He unloaded the truck quickly and placed the cement board in the garage until he was ready for it. Then grabbing the smaller bag and a toolbox from the back of the truck, he headed upstairs to get to work under the sink.

I felt a little better at least knowing the source of his attitude, if not the exact cause. I wished I knew what he had done to earn Arty's ire. The way he talked, everyone in town felt the same way. Well, all except Betty.

My dad had always taught me to form my own opinions about people, not to let myself be clouded by the prejudice of others. I figured that had to apply to Anthony as well as anyone. Maybe that was part of the reason I was determined to go through with this project.

I watched him work for a few minutes. He seemed to know what he was doing, so rather than annoy him further by hovering, I left him to his work. I fluffed some pillows on my bed and sat down with my laptop to transcribe another entry from Rose's diary. From that vantage point, I could stay out of Anthony's way, but see if he needed anything.

**Diary of Rosalie Masen**

July 8, 1917

I wish I never went to that darned dance. For two whole hours I had the time of my life. Even that devil, Royce, couldn't ruin it. No, all it took was one Mr. Emmett McCarty to do that.

Oh, he makes me so angry! I actually thought he enjoyed my company, and all along he thought he was just entertaining Edward's kid sister. And worst of all, I spent Friday night crying my eyes out over him when he is so not worth the effort. Me, the girl who never cries! Not at weddings, funerals, anything! How could I let a man affect me so after only a few hours acquaintance?

I guess it doesn't matter. What's past is past. I'm determined not to shed any more tears over Mr. McCarty.

It's a good thing that I've had my fill of dances for now because it looks like I will not be attending another one! Father heard about Edward's scuffle and asked him about the reason for it at dinner this evening. Edward didn't give any details. He just claimed to be defending my honor. Father said that if my honor needed defending at my first dance, then perhaps it would be better if I didn't attend them anymore.

Edward felt so bad. He apologized to me after dinner. I told him it wasn't his fault that our father was determined to control every aspect of my life forever. Edward told me to let it drop. He said father would probably forget about it by the next dance.

Father used to love me so. I just don't understand him anymore. It's like he doesn't want me to change from the little girl that he could bounce on his lap or spoil with treats from the store.

July 14, 1917

Today at dinner Father was complaining about the Suffragists. He gloated about the fact that several women had been arrested in Washington. James agreed wholeheartedly with him. Mother and Edward ignored his rants like they always do, trying to turn the conversation to a more agreeable topic. Although, the other topic we seem to dwell on these days is no more agreeable - the war in Europe.

Not to be deterred from the Suffragists, I asked Father what a suffragist was. He said, 'Rose, a suffragist is a woman who seeks to step out of the station our Lord assigned her in life, that of caring for her home and family, and instead seeks to take on the rights and responsibilities, that, by rights, belong to her husband.'

Well, this told me nothing about what a suffragist was, but it certainly fit well with my father's view of women in the world. I knew there had to be more to it than that. No woman would risk being locked in jail for such a frivolous reason. As soon as Father left for the factory, I snuck into his library and stole his newspaper.

What I read shocked me! Apparently there is a group of women picketing the White House in Washington to grant women the right to vote! I had never thought much about it before, but letting women have a say in their government and their future certainly seems like a good thing to me.

I feel so sorry for those women, held against their will in what must be such primitive conditions! I wish there was something I could do.

July 20, 1917

Every morning for the past week, as soon as Father leaves the house I have snuck into his library to read his newspaper. I know he wouldn't be happy with me if he found out but I don't care!

The protests in Washington continue, and the government shows no signs of releasing the protesters.

I also learned that there is a fight going on right here in the state of New York to give women the right to vote! A local branch of the National Woman's Party has been set up in Albington. They are planning to march during the Labor Day parade in September. I wonder if anyone here in town will be joining.

July 23, 1917

I'm starting to worry about Edward. He has been acting strangely. Last night I overheard him in the library with Father. They were almost shouting at each other! Unfortunately, the library door is thick and heavy. It muffled most of the sound, so that I couldn't tell what they were arguing about. Edward stormed out the front door after his argument.

Jane stopped by for a visit this evening. Her eyes lit up every time she heard a door close or footsteps in the hall. I had such a hard time not laughing at her, but I refrained. That would be such a cruel thing to do to my closest friend. Ultimately she was disappointed since Edward was gone.

I almost feel sorry for her. I'd love to see her find a beau but certainly not Edward.

July 26, 1917

Distress abounds in the Masen household tonight. Edward and Father fought again, Mother is in tears over it, and I've managed to make a fool of myself in front of Mr. McCarty. I think James is the only one of us impervious to this air of discontent that hangs over us.

It started with another argument between Edward and Father. I have no idea what they could possibly be fighting over since they didn't see fit to consult me on their dispute.

I was tempted to wait in the hall for Edward to emerge, but I didn't want them to know I was listening to their conversation. Instead, I went outside and sat on the front porch swing. Edward likes to walk off his frustrations. I knew that as soon as they were finished he would be out the door.

Sure enough, not ten minutes later the front door slammed open as Edward burst through. He had a bag thrown over his shoulder as if he were going to spend the night at a friend's house.

"Edward," I called.

He stopped short and saw me sitting on the swing. "Hey, Rose," he said.

"Is everything all right? What were you and Father arguing about?" I asked.

His frustration remained evident on his face. He shook his head and sat down next to me. "There was a time when I thought Father knew everything. Now, I'm not so sure."

I had to agree. Ever since the dance Father has treated me differently. It seemed like he realized that I was no longer a little girl, and now uses every opportunity to insist that I was still his child to control.

"At least he lets you out of the house. He's given mother strict orders not to let me go gallivanting, as if I would do such a thing!" I told him.

Edward chuckled. "Oh? Not even if a certain factory foreman were to be there?"

I blushed slightly. "I don't know what you mean!"

"Rosie," he replied, "I could tell you had a good time at the dance, but it would never work between the two of you."

I was surprised at how blunt Edward was being, but more than that, I was angry. I was angry at him for even mentioning Emmett McCarty, and angry at myself for my reaction when he did.

"If you are referring to Mr. McCarty, I can assure you that I had no such intentions. Although, you seemed to have a fine time yourself that night. If you like, I can arrange for Jane to spend some more time at our house. I'm sure she would be quite agreeable."

"No, that won't be necessary." Edward backpedaled quickly. "I thought you couldn't wait to get out of the house. Please don't feel the need to stay here on my account." He tried to present a face of indifference, but I could see the worry behind his eyes. "Seriously, Rose, don't encourage her. I really don't need that right now."

I couldn't help myself. I cracked open with laughter.

When he realized I was just teasing him, it was his turn to feign anger.

"Oh, you think that's funny, do you! I'll give you something to laugh about."

The next thing I knew his fingers dug into my sides causing me to squeal even louder. Edward was relentless with his tickling, and I almost rolled off the swing when he stopped suddenly.

I felt a strong hand catch me by the shoulder and help me stand. I spun around quickly, embarrassed that someone had seen me in such a compromising situation as I tried to catch my breath. Standing in front of me was none other than the man that had started this whole ill-fated discussion, Mr. Emmett McCarty.

"Mr. McCarty," I stammered out, my breathing still not back to normal.

"Miss Rosalie," he responded politely. He was even more handsome than in my memories, but I could also see the humor in his eyes.

"Hey Emmett." Edward held out his hand and Emmett shook it firmly.

I was glad of the distraction because it gave me a moment to compose myself. I smoothed my hair out and held my head high.

"Edward, your father asked me to stop by this evening. Is he home?" Emmett asked.

"Yes, he's sitting in the library. Go on inside. It's the second door on the right."

"Thanks. I'd better be going. Don't want to keep him waiting." Emmett turned back to me for a moment. "Miss Rosalie, it was a pleasure seeing you again." He tipped his hat and was gone through the door.

I let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding. This encounter just further cemented the fact that Emmett McCarty was never going to see me as anything other than a child.

It was impossible to hide my disappointment from Edward. He sighed and put his arm around my shoulders.

"Don't worry, Rose. Give it time. Someday you'll have plenty of gentlemen interested in getting to know you. Father won't be able to keep them away. I can see you now, married with a house of your own with a flock of children pulling at your apron strings."

The words were nice, but the way he said them made me feel melancholic. It sounded as if he was dreaming an impossible dream. I turned and wrapped my arms around him, holding him tightly.

"What would I do without you, Edward?"

He turned, pulling me tight to his chest. "You're strong, Rosie. You would be just fine without me," he said. It was so unlike him to hug me out of the blue, but I hugged him back as tight as I could.

"Now, I've got to go. I have some things to work out."

"Oh, don't you want to see what Father and Mr. McCarty are up to?"

"No, it isn't my concern. They'll call James in if they need him." There was a time when Edward was fascinated with every aspect of the running of the factory when he was home for the summer. I was surprised at his lack of interest now, but I let it go.

Edward picked up his bag and slung it over his shoulder again. He turned back to me with a serious look on his face.

"Rosie, so many things are changing right now. This world is so crazy, but being with you reminds me of all that is still good, or worth fighting for."

He hugged me again, even tighter than before. His argument with father must have made him melancholy. I hugged him back and kissed him on the cheek like a good sister.

"Goodbye, Rose. I'm going to Tyler's."

"Okay. Don't be out too late." I called as he walked down the steps.

"Don't wait up," he called back as he hurried down the street, leaving me on the porch by myself.

I've come up to my room to be alone. I didn't want to be waiting there again when Emmett left.

For some reason the strange scene with Edward and Emmett doesn't feel real. I'm tempted to lie down on my bed, close my eyes, and just remember the sight of Emmett standing there.

I can still feel where his strong hand had caught me. My heart thumps just like it did when I looked into his eyes.

Why am I punishing myself like this? He would never think of me as anything but a child, and even if he did, Father would never allow it. I need to get Emmett McCarty out of my head once and for all.

Instead of feeling sorry for myself, maybe I should be worrying about Edward. He seemed to be in a strange mood tonight. He was more downhearted than I ever remember him being before. And to shout at Father! That is just unimaginable. I hope he works out whatever is troubling him.

July 27, 1917

Edward didn't come home last night. No one will tell me where he is. He didn't come down to breakfast this morning. Mother checked his room and found his bed hadn't been slept in. She spent the day sobbing in her room upstairs. I told her that I thought he spent the night at Tyler's, but that didn't seem to help.

When Father found out, he threw down his newspaper, called Edward an ungrateful little…, I can't even write it.

James had gone to the factory early, and there was nobody else around. Well, there were Mary and Sarah in the kitchen, but I couldn't very well go gossiping with those two busybodies.

I tried to talk to mother several times, but each time I asked about him she broke out in sobs again.

So I waited. I tried sitting out on the front porch to see if I could see him walking up the street, but that only lasted twenty minutes.

Every time someone would walk down the street their eyes would dart to me as if they knew exactly what had happened and were looking for my reaction. After the third Nosy Nelly walked by I couldn't stand it out there any longer.

So here I sit and write, waiting quite impatiently for someone to tell me what's going on.

I keep imagining all sorts of horrible things.

Edward was attacked and was so injured he couldn't be moved. No, mother would have rushed to his side.

Edward joined the circus. That's just ridiculous.

Edward ran off and got married. That's… possible, but with whom? Certainly nobody from this little town. If he fancied anyone, I would have known about it.

Maybe he met someone while he was away at school. And of course, Father wouldn't approve. That must be it! He's been acting really strangely the past few days. They must have had it all planned!

I hope she's a nice girl and will make a good wife for him. I can imagine her perfectly. She is tall, just a few inches shorter than he is. She will be strikingly beautiful with long golden hair and clear blue eyes. Just seeing how the girls in this town react to him, he must have had his pick of beauties.

And she will be a princess in the social circles, ready to be the queen someday, just like Mother is. They will go to all the parties together and dance gracefully as if the Lord created them for one another. She will keep the house for him, and be the most gracious hostess as she entertains guests.

But most importantly, she will love and adore him, and once they are together, he will have eyes for no other. I just know Edward is destined for true love. Nothing less will do for him.

_**EPOV**_

_**Oh, how I missed my little sister. She was still so sweet and innocent that summer that I left. I don't think she realized it, but in describing her vision of my wife she depicted herself perfectly. Maybe not the still awkward girl that I left standing on the porch that evening, but certainly the woman I returned to find a year later. How did I not see that she was the strongest of any of us?**_

_**It was bittersweet to read the hopeful words she wrote so long ago, knowing that the next day her heartbreak would be that much worse. How I wished that I had prepared her in some way for what I was about to do. I made the same mistake everyone else did. I still thought of her as a child, and by not being honest with her, I treated her as a child.**_

_**Rosie could have handled it. She would have argued, and maybe even pleaded, but in the end she would have hugged me, told me that she was proud of me, and prayed for me to return safely. She would have understood the sense of duty I felt, and the need to serve my country. She may have cried herself to sleep that night, but the next day she would have been leading the home front. In fact, that's exactly what she did.**_

_**If I had known then what I knew now, I probably never would have gone off to war. No, that's not true. I believed in the cause, and I was determined to do my part. I was even prepared to pay the ultimate price. I just never anticipated how much of a sacrifice it would mean.**_

_**Here I was , caught between life and death. Was this all that was left for me? For eternity? Was I destined to linger here on the edge of this world, with the door to the next closed to me?**_

_**So much had changed from the world I knew. I didn't even understand half the things I saw. Vehicles were so much more complex. With so many buttons and switches it must take a year to learn to operate one. And to have a radio playing music inside! We had used radios to communicate during the war, but I never thought about it being used solely for music. Although, what came pouring out of Anthony's radio seemed more noise than music.**_

_**I had no idea how much time had passed, but it must have been considerable. Long enough for everyone I knew to have passed away, leaving me behind. The thought of that was almost enough to cause me to despair completely.**_

_**Almost. One shining light kept me from returning from my grave to fade away completely.**_

_**Isabella Swan.**_

_**Isabella, God's promise. Maybe God still had a plan for my pathetic excuse for a soul. I would put my faith in him, and in the beautiful woman who called to me. I could do nothing else.**_

* * *

A/N:

Don't ask me how Edward knows the name Isabella means God's promise. He just does.

Sorry this chapter was a bit late. I realized that I needed to give some background on Anthony before the events in the next chapter, so I had to write this one pretty much from scratch. It's still not my favorit, but I had to get it out there before I could move on.

Then to top things off, the first scene to pop into my head was one from chapter 7 (or 8, depending on how long winded 6 becomes). I had to get it down before I lost it.

As always, I need to thank my wonderful Beta, Spikey, and everyone who has read my story. I love you guys.

I plan to be back in two weeks with the next chapter. It's over half written, so it shouldn't take me too long to finish up. Chapter 6 (/7?) is one I've been looking foreward to finishing for a long time.

If you want to know when I update you can follow me on twitter - mywhitepen


	6. Chapter 6: Night on the Town

**Chapter 6 – Night on the Town**

Disclaimer: Twilight is owned by Stephenie Meyer. I am only borrowing a few of her characters. The remainder of the story is my own. No reproduction is permitted without my written consent.

**Author's Note:**

Once again, Spikey has worked her Beta magic on this chapter. Thanks also, to therunaway, my Twilighted Beta.

Song for this chapter: Angel by Aerosmith

Baby  
You're my angel  
Come and save me tonight  
You're my angel  
Come and make it all right

* * *

**Diary of Rosalie Masen**

July 28, 1917

Edward didn't run off to get married. He's enlisted in the United States Army!

I knew yesterday when I imagined his wedding that I was deluding myself, but it was such a happy fantasy. I didn't want to face the only realistic alternative.

I never wanted this for Edward. I really wanted that other life for him; to see him fall in love, have a family. We could have grown old together, watching our children grow up with a flock of close cousins to play with.

Now he's gone and thrown it all away! He's headed off to Europe with who knows what kind of training, to fight for a cause I don't even understand.

Edward is no soldier! He's barely eighteen years old! He's never known a night of cold or hardship in his life, and now he's off to fight in the trenches?

But that is not even the worst part. The worst is that he didn't tell me. He knew exactly what he was doing when he left that night. How could he say those things? How could he talk to me about being patient and strong when he didn't even trust me enough to tell me he was leaving? I may never see him again!

At least I found one person who would tell me the truth.

I was sitting downstairs in the parlor after dinner. Well, it really wasn't much of a dinner. Mother wouldn't leave her room. When Father got home he stormed straight into his study. James never appeared at all. I was left alone with a four course meal that could have fed ten.

After I ate a little, I busied myself with some sewing. From my vantage point I could see if anyone came in the front door. I hadn't given up hope that Edward would reappear at any moment.

A knock sounded from the door. Since nobody else was around, I got up to answer it. There at the door was Emmett again. He had come back to report in to my father again just like the night before.

I tried not to blush at the sight of him, but I'm afraid I failed miserably. At least I managed to conduct myself with more dignity than at our previous meeting. I welcomed him in graciously, and told him Father was in the study.

That would have been the end of our encounter, except that after taking a step, he paused and turned back to me with a look of concern on his face. Then he said, "I know Edward's sudden departure must have been quite a shock to you, but don't worry. I'm sure he'll come through it just fine."

I felt all the blood drain from my face. I heard my voice squeak out, "Come through it?"

His face took on an expression of puzzlement at my reaction. "It will be months until his training is over. Once the US gets involved, the Huns will be knocked flat in no time. He probably won't even make it to the front lines," he said.

The next thing I knew, I was lying on the sofa in the parlor with a wide-eyed Emmett patting my cheek. It was incredible, waking up to those brown eyes of his. It almost made me forget what had happened, but the truth came rushing back quickly.

"Oh my God, Rosie, you scared the hell out'a me!" he said. My insides tingled when he called me Rosie. He had always called me Miss Masen, or Miss Rosalie before. I liked Rosie.

"What happened?" I asked, still somewhat disoriented.

"We were talking about Edward, and the next thing I knew you almost hit the ground. You're lucky I'm quick, or you would have a nasty lump on your head," he replied.

"Edward. Wait a minute!" I leaned up on one elbow and grabbed the lapel of his jacket so preventing him from pulling away. "You know where Edward is?"

Now the puzzled look came back to his face again. "Yeah, well, not exactly, they could have sent him to a couple different training camps, but they all end up at the same place. He's enlisted."

Enlisted.

I couldn't fight the tears that welled up, and before I knew it Emmett was seated next to me as I sobbed into his shoulder.

It took me a few minutes to get myself under control. All the while Emmett held me and patted my hair, telling me it would be all right.

Finally, I managed to stop crying long enough to speak.

"You must think I'm such a baby, crying like this. It's just that I didn't know."

"You didn't know?" he echoed. "I'm so sorry, Rosie. I should never have broken it to you like that." He pulled me tight to him and kissed the top of my head.

"No, don't be," I said between sniffles. "At least you told me the truth. That's more than I could get from anyone else in this house. Even Edward didn't trust me enough to tell me.

"I knew he was gone, but nobody would talk to me. Father stormed out and hasn't even looked at me since it happened. Mother is hysterical up in her room, and James has been spending so much time at the factory that I haven't even seen him for more than a moment here or there."

"You're right," he said, somewhat to my surprise. "They never should have treated you like that. You deserve to know. But Rosie, go easy on Edward, all right? That was a pretty brave thing he did, going against your father's opinion and all."

"I've been so worried about him. I imagined all sorts of horrible things. I finally told myself he must have run off to get married."

Emmett chuckled at that.

"I don't know. I think he would find a wife scarier than the Huns at this point."

"You're probably right." My tears hadn't stopped, but I found myself laughing in spite of them.

"I know I am. And I'm sure you'll have a letter from him within the week explaining everything," he said.

"You really think so?" I was devastated at the thought that I would never see Edward again, but to have some contact, even through a letter gave me hope.

"I know so. Edward loves you. That wouldn't stop just because he joined up. He'll need you more than ever, and I know he'll still worry about you from where ever he finds himself."

"Thanks, Emmett." I didn't know what else to say.

He held me a moment longer, then stood up, pulling me up by the hand.

"You're strong Rosie. You'll get through this," he said, looking me in the eyes.

He stroked my cheek with the back of his hand down to the tip of my chin. My heart thumped heavily as he leaned closer, and for one brief moment I thought he was going to kiss me.

At that moment the door to the parlor swung open, causing us both to jump apart. James stood there with a look of suspicion on his face.

"There you are, Emmett. Rose, what are you doing squirreled away in the parlor with one of the foremen. Father is waiting for him."

I had never gotten along as well with James as I had with Edward. Usually he ignored me out of boredom or annoyance, and I did the same. Today, his accusing attitude made me just plain angry.

I turned to him.

"Mr. McCarty has been kind enough to explain Edward's absence to me, something no one else in this family could be bothered to do!" I said angrily.

"Furthermore, I won't have you accusing him of anything inappropriate when all he did was to show me a kindness that could be expected of any gentleman."

James eyed me warily. I had never spoken back like this before, and he clearly didn't expect it.

"I see. Well, if you are finished with him, dear Sister, we really must get going. There is work to discuss," he said tersely.

Emmett took that as his cue to leave. Picking his hat from the floor where he had dropped it, he turned to me one last time to say, "Good evening, Miss Masen," and followed my brother out the door.

That quickly, we had gone from Rosie and Emmett back to Mr. McCarty and Miss Masen. I was so angry with James that I wanted to beat him with the fireplace poker, or at least slap that smug expression from his face.

As it was, I did neither, and it left me feeling powerless again.

So here I sit, writing in this journal. I'll probably fall asleep tonight crying in my pillow, but at least now I know the truth. It's still painful, but maybe I can do something about it tomorrow.

Emmett said I could expect a letter from Edward. I know I'll be waiting anxiously for the mail every day now until Edward returns safely.

I can't stand the idea of Edward worrying about me when he will be in so much danger. If I could, I would follow him to the front just to look out for him. Now more than ever I wish I had been born a boy. They have so much more freedom to choose their path in life. It's not right!

Tomorrow I'm going to put this day behind me. I'm going to go out and find a way to help bring Edward home safely.

* * *

**BPOV**

Poor Rose. I really felt bad for her. It must have been awful to be completely forgotten by her family in the midst of such a crisis.

"And Edward, how could you leave without telling her," I scolded him.

My habit of speaking aloud to Edward was now firmly entrenched.

"She could have handled it. Even just reading from her diary, I can see that. I bet she really tore into you in her next letter.

"And Emmett needs to make up his mind. Either he wants her or he doesn't. I can't wait to see how that little love story resolves itself," I continued.

Edward didn't answer, not that I expected him to. I wondered if he got to see the resolution either, or if he died too soon. The date of his death was listed as October 1918. A little over a year after the entry I had just finished reading. Somehow it didn't seem polite to ask that question out loud.

My fascination with Edward was becoming an obsession. I thought about him constantly. I couldn't wait to finish the diary, to find out what happened in his story, but then, I already knew how it ended. He died young – only nineteen years old, too soon to really live.

I think I was drawing out the diary entries because I didn't want his story to end. It was less painful to torture myself by reading just a few pages every few days than to face the end.

Thunk!

My contemplation was interrupted by a noise on the roof.

Two nights ago, one of the attic vents had come loose in a thunderstorm. It was now being held in place only by a scrap of metal. Any time the wind picked up it would bang on the roof. As a result, I got almost no sleep the night before.

Anthony had taken a quick look, but didn't have time to fix it yesterday, and I wasn't sure if he would be back again today.

THUNK!

That did it! I couldn't go another night like this.

I set the book down next to the bed and marched downstairs to take a look from the outside. It was a beautiful day, sunny and warm, but there was enough of a breeze to knock the loose vent around.

The house had a big sloping roof on the front. It was steep but it ended only one story from the ground.

"I can do this!" I said to Edward/myself.

I got the ladder out from the garage and set it next to the house as Anthony had done the day before. I had watched as he scrambled up and quickly climbed onto the roof. It didn't look too difficult.

The ladder felt unsteady under my body, but I climbed to the top easily enough. Getting onto the roof was another story. I eased myself carefully over the edge. The ladder slipped to the side in the process, but I caught it with my foot before it could fall.

Once I was sure it had settled back into position, I let go. Slowly, I made my way to the peak and over the other side. The problem vent was a few feet down on the back side of the roof.

I saw where it had come loose. It flapped up when I tried to pull on it but one end was still firmly attached. I tugged as hard as I could without the risk of hurling myself to the ground if it should let loose, but it didn't budge. Why didn't I think to bring a crowbar or something?

"Because you shouldn't even be up here in the first place," I answered myself. Edward wasn't going to answer, so I might as well.

"Bella?" a voice called.

For a minute I thought talking to a ghost was starting to drive me insane, but then I heard it again.

"Bella!"

I moved myself over the peak and slid carefully down the other side. There in the yard was Alice.

"Hey, Alice," I called down to her.

"There you are. I knew you were around somewhere. I brought you a few more things for your flower beds. What are you doing up on the roof?"

"One of the attic vents is loose. Every time the breeze catches it I hear a loud bang. I got no sleep last night."

"That's a problem. Did you get it fixed?"

"No, I'm trying to pull it off, but it won't come loose. Can you do me a favor?"

"Sure."

"Go into the garage. Jake's toolbox is on the right hand side. See if you can find a crowbar or something inside."

"Okay."

Alice disappeared from view. I heard some banging in the garage, but she emerged quickly with the crowbar in hand. She climbed up the ladder to hand it to me.

"Is this what you need?" she said.

"That's perfect. I'll be right back."

I climbed back up over the peak to the vent. Even with the crowbar I could barely get it to wiggle.

"You need to put it on the other side to get the proper leverage."

"Ahh!" I jumped and nearly fell. I hadn't expected her to follow me.

"Bella! Take it easy," she said.

"You scared me!" I replied. My heart was beating a mile a minute, more from the thought of falling than anything else. At least I managed to hang on to the crowbar.

"Sorry," she said. "Try it on the other end. You should be able to get better leverage there and pop it off."

I did as she directed. It didn't pull off entirely, but I was able to work my way far enough under to gradually pry the whole thing off.

"Do you have a replacement?" she asked as she peered down into my dark attic.

"No, Anthony is supposed to pick up another one the next time he runs up to the city."

"Well, it's a good thing it's not going to rain tonight." She looked up at the clear sky. I hadn't even thought about the rain, I was just focused on getting the thumping to stop.

I tried to set it over the hole, but there was no way it would stay. I'd have to try to cover it with plastic or something until Anthony could get it fixed.

"Bella?" a man's voice called.

"Oh, Alice go and see if that's him while I clean up here."

Alice climbed nimbly over the peak and disappeared from view, but just seconds later I heard a shriek.

I stuck my head up above the peak, but couldn't see Alice or the ladder, so I eased my way down to the edge as quickly as I could and looked over.

The ladder had slipped to the side and fallen to the ground. There, lying flat on his back next to it was Jasper, with Alice sprawled on top of him.

It looked like he had managed to catch her before she fell. She didn't look injured at all, in fact they both looked more than okay. Jasper still didn't realize I was there. Their bodies were still as they stared into each other's eyes. Then, I watched in amazement as he slowly lifted his head from the ground as if he was about to kiss her.

"Jasper?" I called.

Their bubble burst and Alice rolled off of him.

"Oh, my God! Are you okay? I didn't mean to hurt you!" she apologized, helping him up.

"I'm fine," he assured her. "You didn't hurt yourself? That was a long way to fall."

"No, I'm all in one piece," she said as she dusted the grass clippings from herself. "I don't know what's wrong with me. Every time I run into you I end up on the ground."

"Yeah, don't worry. It happens all the time."

I couldn't believe it. Jasper was now flirting with her.

"It must have been the stunning good looks. Or wait, the magnetic personality," Alice joked coyly.

"Hello! A little help up here?" I waved frantically.

They both looked up in surprise as if they had just remembered that I existed.

"Bella, hold on!" Jasper yelled.

He set the ladder back up and held it as I climbed onto it.

"Be careful!"

"Jasper, I got up here just fine, and I am perfectly capable of climbing back down."

"That's, it. Easy now." He helped guide my feet onto the lower rungs like I was a child.

"Stop it, Jasper, you're going to trip me." I jumped the last few feet and immediately pulled him into a huge hug. "What are you doing here? I didn't expect you back so soon!"

"I thought I'd take my best girl out for a night on the town," he replied.

"That's a great idea." I turned to Alice, who was now hanging back shyly. "Alice, are you doing anything tonight? You should join us."

"I don't know," she said. "I don't want to get in the way."

"You won't be in the way. It'll be fun, won't it, Jasper."

Jasper was looking at her again lost in thought.

"Jasper?"

"Oh, yeah." Suddenly he got a huge smile on his face, as if it was the most brilliant idea in the world. "Yeah, you've got to come. We can all get to know each other better."

I could see that Alice was wavering. I wasn't sure if it was because she had something else to do or if she was afraid to intrude.

"Oh, let me make introductions. Alice, this is Jasper Whitlock. Jasper, this is my new friend Alice Brandon."

"Nice to finally meet you, Alice," Jasper said, extending his hand.

"I knew it was only a matter of time," Alice replied.

They shook hands, and the magnetic connection seemed to grab them both in full force. Each time they touched, the whole world around them seemed to dim, with a spotlight on just the two of them. If someone had been playing "Dream Weaver" in the background, the moment would have been perfect. I wondered briefly if it would be possible to pry them apart again.

"So Jasper, where did you want to go?"

They let go abruptly.

"I don't know. Alice, where do you like to go for a night on the town?"

"Well, this is a small town. You have to take what you can get as far as night life goes. I think there's a band playing tonight at Jim's Place. We could meet there for dinner and stay for the music later?" Alice sounded like she still wasn't sure of the idea, but she seemed ready to go along with it.

"Then it's a date." Jasper said.

"All right, I'll call ahead and have them save us a table. Sometimes it gets crowded," she said as she walked back to her Jeep and climbed in. "I'll see you there at seven."

She started the car with a wave and disappeared down the road.

"Wow! She sure knows how to make a quick getaway," Jasper said.

"Hey, did she leave anything? I thought she said she brought me some more flowers."

"I don't see anything. That's twice now she's run from us."

"Us? I think it was you, big brother. She was fine the day I met her at the nursery."

He ignored my jab.

"At least she agreed to meet us tonight. Hopefully we can pin her down long enough to get to eat dinner."

Jasper and I spent the afternoon working around the house. We stopped at six to shower and change. By seven we had found a parking space and were walking down the street to the bar.

In the window was a flyer announcing the entertainment for the night – The Rag Dolls, an Aerosmith tribute band.

Jasper shook his head. "These guys had better be good. I don't think I can handle some pussy up on stage belting out 'Dude looks like a lady.'"

I laughed. Jasper was particular about his classic rock. It would be either a great night or a night of pure torture. There was no middle ground.

We quickly found Alice, who jumped out of her seat, waving when we walked in the door. She had a booth reserved for us in the back. The place was already packed. I hope that boded well for Jasper's entertainment for the evening.

The waitress came to take our order, flirted with Jasper, who missed it entirely, and left quickly after getting a nasty look from Alice.

After getting our drinks we settled in to get to know each other.

"So how long have the two of you been together?" Alice asked.

"Together?" I said.

"Yeah, you guys make such a cute couple."

Alice and I both jumped as Jasper started coughing on his drink. I patted his back while he tried to catch his breath.

Once he had calmed down a bit, I explained the situation.

"Alice, Jasper is my stepbrother. I suppose we've been together since his mom married my dad when I was sixteen. He's the best big brother I could have ever wished for, but other than that, there's nothing going on here."

Jasper still hadn't found his voice after his coughing fit, but he nodded his head in support of my statement.

A series of emotions flashed across Alice's face so quickly that I couldn't catch them all. She seemed to go from disappointment, to confusion, to excitement, and back to casual interest in about two seconds time.

"I see," she said. "It's great that the two of you are so close. It's not often that stepsiblings form such a strong bond. Will you excuse me for a minute? I'll be right back." She got up from the table abruptly and walked into the ladies room.

Jasper looked at me with a puzzled expression on his face. "She did it again. Aren't you going to follow her?"

"Why would I do that?"

"To keep her from running away again. Besides, I thought women were supposed to go in flocks. I've never seen one tackle the ladies room alone before."

I socked him in the arm.

"She just needs a minute. She likes you, and she's excited that you're still on the market, but she doesn't want to appear too forward." He could be so dense sometimes.

"Hey, for all she knows I've got a girlfriend up in Rochester."

As always, Jasper was unwilling to believe a nice girl was into him. That must have been why he always seemed to end up with some tramp. I really needed to help him boost his selfesteem.

"Yes, but the worst she has to do now is beat out some faceless slut to win your attention. It's a whole different story from having to watch her new friend be with the guy she's crushing on," I told him matter-of-factly.

"And I know that you can't possibly have a girl back in Rochester that compares to Alice," I added.

"Alice is certainly different from anyone I have ever met, but I think you're letting your imagination run a little too far. She just met me, but you make it sound like she's got the hots for me. There's no way."

"That's exactly what I'm saying. Just make sure you treat her right."

"What's that supposed to mean. I don't treat women right?"

"Love 'em and leave 'em Whitlock? Treat women badly? Jasper, your reputation lingered long after you left for college." We had never discussed it before, but by the pained expression on his face I knew he couldn't deny it.

"I think you are presuming far too much. She can't seem to stand my presence for more than five minutes before she feels the need to run away from me," he said dejectedly.

"True. Maybe she's smarter than I gave her credit for." It was his turn to smack me on the arm.

Our sibling banter was interrupted by an all too familiar voice.

"Well, if it isn't Miss Swan."

I looked up once again into the incompatible eyes and face of Anthony Cullen.

"Anthony, what are you doing here?" I asked.

"The Rag Dolls are the best gig in town. Everybody'll be here tonight. I help them with their setup, so I'm here a little early."

He set his beer bottle down on the table and slid into Alice's seat.

"So what brings you out tonight? Hot date?" he asked with amusement at Jasper's growing level of irritation.

"Hardly. Anthony, this is my stepbrother Jasper. Jasper, this is Anthony Cullen. He's the one helping me to remodel the house."

"Ah, the handyman. Nice to meet you, Anthony," Jasper said, his voice dripping with false sincerity.

"Likewise." They shook hands briefly, but I could tell that they were both determined to dislike each other.

"Jasper surprised me with a visit today. We decided to check out the band here tonight." I tried to diffuse the tension with small talk, but nobody else was falling for it.

At that moment, Alice reappeared carrying three shot glasses.

"Look what the cat dragged in," she said as she put the glasses down on the table.

"And a big motherfucking hello to you too," Anthony replied, making no move to get up.

Jasper tensed but he couldn't exactly leap out of the booth swinging because I was in his way.

"Anthony, I believe you are in my seat."

"Didn't see your name on it." He looked up at her with a smirk. "Or maybe it's you that has the hot date tonight. Just watch out for that Bella. I know she looks like a kitten, but I'll bet she's a real handfull in the sack." I blushed when I realized that I was the one he had paired with Alice.

Alice closed her eyes and screamed, "Anthony Cullen, if you don't get out of that goddamned seat right now, so help me I'll…"

Anthony cut her off. "Chill, cousin! I was only teasing you. I've got work to do anyway," he said as he slid out of the seat.

"Bella, I'll see you around." Anthony took a last drink from his beer, set the empty bottle back on the table and made his way back to the stage.

Alice slid into his place with a sigh and passed shot glasses to Jasper and me. "After that, I really need a drink." She raised her glass. "They say you can choose your friends but your relatives you are stuck with. Thank God for choices." She kicked back the shot with one quick motion.

Jasper and I shared a questioning glance before we followed suit.

"Alice, what the hell was that all about?" Jasper asked.

"Forget about it. It's nothing. Anthony just likes to antagonize me. The quicker I blow my top the quicker he leaves."

"Did he call you cousin?" I asked.

"Yes, he is a distant cousin. He's actually one of my few living relatives."

"I don't like the jackass. Bella, I think you need to find someone else to fix your house." Jasper said pointedly.

"Anthony Cullen is the one helping you with the house?" Alice asked.

"He came recommended." I murmured. That argument was getting weaker the more I learned about him.

"By who?" said Jasper.

"No, don't worry, Jasper. Anthony is mostly harmless, and he knows his stuff. He just takes pleasure in seeing me come unglued. It started when we were kids on the playground, and never wore off, I guess."

"You know, he's actually kind of handy to have around. One night a few weeks ago, I was followed out of here by a drunk guy who wouldn't take no for an answer. Anthony just happened to catch wind of it. He caught up with us outside, and before the drunk could lay a finger on me Anthony beat the crap out of him.

"He means well, he just has a strange way of showing it," she summarized.

"Okay, I get that," I said, "but what does the rest of the town have against him? He and Arty could barely tolerate each other the day we went to the hardware store."

Alice was evasive. "That's really not my place to tell. I don't know the whole story, but I think that Anthony's sins aren't really his own, they're his father's."

She looked down at her fingers as they twirled her empty shot glass. It didn't look like she was willing to volunteer any more information.

"Okay, so the guy's an ass, but good to have around," I concluded. "Let's talk about something else."

We finished our dinner and spent more time getting to know each other. Alice flirted mildly with Jasper the entire time, but she asked me just as many questions, and responded just as enthusiastically that I never felt I was intruding on the two of them.

The alcohol flowed freely. Jasper drank a few beers, but took great pleasure in buying shots for Alice and me. He seemed determined to get me drunk enough to let loose tonight.

For the next hour I watched Anthony help the band assemble their equipment and go through sound checks. I kept trying to imagine he was Edward. My Edward never saw an electric guitar, but I bet he could play that keyboard better than any of those guys.

I had been anxious to change the subject away from Anthony before Jasper insisted that I find someone else to do the work on my house. I wasn't willing to part with my Edward lookalike. More and more, I found myself thinking about him while he worked. I imagined his hands playing the piano instead of tearing apart my plumbing, or his voice whispering sweet things to me like he said to his sister. And now, it seemed Alice was a part of the mystery too.

The band started playing at ten. With a peal of electric guitar, they launched into Aerosmith's 'Walk this Way'. Alice squealed as she jumped up and pulled me with her to the dance floor.

By this time the place was packed. The band was surprisingly good. The lead singer wasn't exactly Steven Tyler, but he had some stage presence, so the whole place was rocking.

Jasper had plied me with enough alcohol that any inhibitions I had about dancing in a crowded bar were long gone. I had never been out dancing like this before since Jake never took me along when he went out drinking. It felt incredible to let loose on the dance floor with Alice.

Alice finally managed to get Jasper out there with us while the band played 'Love in an Elevator'. I could tell that Jasper was attracted to her. As they danced, the contact between the two of them grew until he had his arms wrapped around her waist, moving them both to the same beat.

I was thrilled to see them hitting it off, and too drunk to worry about any consequences of their relationship moving too fast. My brain was only capable of reveling in the moment.

The song ended, and the lead singer announced the next one, 'Angel'. By now Jasper and Alice were completely wrapped up in each other, but I had forgotten about them. At the first notes of the song, I felt two warm hands at my waist. A thrill shot through me as I melted into the body standing behind me, swaying to the music.

* * *

**EPOV**

_This woman was driving me insane. I didn't understand this attachment that we shared. She didn't even seem aware of it. She went about her day as if I wasn't there, ate, and slept, dressed, worked, talked with her friends. Every once in a while she would even talk to me, or at least my picture. But she never reacted to me, or gave a hint that I was anything but a memory to her locked away in my sister's diary._

_Maybe I didn't really exist. Maybe I ceased to exist all those years ago when my heart stopped beating. Maybe I followed that bright light and all the promise it held, instead of turning back to the earth, longing for something that I had missed in this life._

_But that didn't explain why I was here, in a time I knew nothing about, and couldn't have even dreamed of. She seemed familiar with my history, with the war and its aftermath, but for her it was so distant. What had been my reality was now almost forgotten, replaced by a new world. I could see echoes from my time, but no one else remained. It was just me, a spirit barely clinging to existence, drawn to the spark of life in a kind and beautiful woman._

_The spark was getting stronger. Each day, each moment I spent in her presence, some of her never ending life force was transferred into me. I had no substance, but I could feel. The emotions coursing through me were almost as strong as they were when I was alive._

_Modern dancing was a far cry from what it was in my day. Women clad in such tiny dresses, writhing on men while others observed. Even the French prostitutes would not cavort in that way. Later, I would analyze the scene objectively, and feel sufficient shock at the lax attitudes toward courtship. At the time all I could feel was jealousy._

_When she and Alice danced alone I was mesmerized. I had never seen women move like they did. It was more sensual than I imagined an Egyptian belly dancer to be. She moved with a grace and fluidity that drew in the eyes. I wasn't the only one watching. Most of the men in the room could not tear their eyes away._

_I could have watched her all night, at least until HE joined her on the dance floor. I seethed with jealousy. It was unbearable to watch as he pressed his body lewdly against hers. It would have been unimaginable to run my hands over a woman's body as he did. I was disgusted by his public defilement of my angel._

_But a part of me longed to feel her soft body pressed to mine, to wrap my hands around her tiny waste. I wanted to place kisses on her neck and bury my face in her hair as I ran my hands over the curves of her body._

_Never in my life had I wanted to be someone else so badly. The most difficult thing I ever had to watch was him, Anthony Cullen, the impostor in my body, as he danced with her, touching her body as I never would._

_My jealousy boiled over. It burst from my being in a flash of energy and manifested itself in an explosion of fire and sparks near the stage. The lights flickered out, and the room dissolved into screams and chaos._

* * *

**Author's note:**

This was a fun chapter to write. I hope you enjoyed it.

Thaigher Lille interviewed me for the Twificbitches blog. Check it out at: http: / /twificbitches .blogspot. com

I'll be back in about two weeks with Chapter 7, which is really part two of this chapter. See you then.


	7. Chapter 7: Heaven or Hell

Chapter 7: Heaven or Hell?

Disclaimer: Twilight is owned by Stephenie Meyer. I am only borrowing a few of her characters. The remainder of the story is my own. No reproduction is permitted without my written consent.

Author's Note:

This chapter is dedicated to my incredible beta, Spikey. RL's been rough on her lately, so everyone please say a little prayer for her.

Song for this chapter:

_Angel without Wings_ by Saving Abel

_Sucked into another black hole  
__Drag me further down the road  
__I can't keep from feeling_

_Time drags me down the line  
__Gets me closer every time  
__Cause it's you I'm missing_

_You're my angel without wings…_

* * *

BPOV

The singer crooned the words to Aerosmith's classic song into the microphone, taking me back to my first high school dance. I remembered dancing awkwardly to this tune with some boy whose name I had now long forgotten. I smiled, recalling how I put my hands on his shoulders with his hands on my waist. We had danced with a foot of space between us, our feet never moving as our bodies swayed to the music.

This was so much better.

I could feel a trail burning across my skin everywhere his fingers touched. His hand moved slowly across my stomach, and as we continued to move with the beat of the music, I felt his thumb graze the bottom of my breast.

I leaned back into him, wanting more.

I don't know if it was the alcohol running through my bloodstream, or the physical contact with this handsome, sexy man, but inside of me a flame was lit.

Every movement of his hands, and every inch of his body pressed against mine fanned the flame of my desire until it was a raging inferno.

"Edward, yes," I whispered softly to myself.

In that moment, everyone else around us ceased to exist. It was just me and my green-eyed lover, and I wanted him like I had never wanted a man before in my life.

Suddenly, I was jolted back to reality as a shower of sparks erupted from the sound board. The lights went out and the music cut off instantly. The sound was replaced by shrieks as chaos erupted in the crowded bar.

"What the fuck!" shouted an all too familiar voice from behind me.

The emergency lights clicked on. I turned suddenly and looked into the eyes of a stranger in the face of the man I longed for. This wasn't Edward, it was Anthony. I had allowed the music and alcohol to numb my mind and body into a dream state, willing myself to believe the impossible. An intense feeling of disenchantment hit me like a slap in the face, but I had no time to react before another hand grabbed mine, pulling me away.

"Bella, this way!" Jasper yelled over the uproar. I followed blindly as he pulled Alice and me through a back door behind the stage.

The cool night air washed over me as I stepped through the door. I inhaled deeply, letting the oxygen clear my mind of the confusion of the past few minutes. Other people were pouring out of the bar behind me, and I lost Jasper and Alice in the crowd. After searching for a few minutes, I finally found them down the alley, huddled next to the wall. Jasper sat on the ground with Alice curled up in his lap. Her breathing was erratic, and I realized that she was hyperventilating. Jasper rocked her back and forth, trying to calm her down.

I crouched down next to her, rubbing her back. "Alice, it's okay. I think everyone got out." This only seemed to make her worse, so I sat back wrapping my arms around my knees, not knowing what else to do for her.

Finally, after a few minutes her breathing slowed down until she was crying quietly into Jasper's shoulder. "I saw it," she sobbed, her voice so quiet I could barely hear it.

"Shh, it's okay," Jasper whispered back, still rocking her.

"No, I saw it!" She pulled back to look at him. "In the vision, the day we first met!"

Jasper looked back at her, confused. "I don't understand. What does this have to do with the day we met?"

"Do you remember when I first met you on the street that day?" she asked, tears still running down her face. "It was an ordinary day, just warm enough that you could work out in the sunshine with a few clouds here and there. Work was busy enough to keep my mind occupied, but nothing noteworthy had happened. I should have known that no day could possibly be that ordinary," she laughed and sniffled at the same time.

Jasper tilted her face up so that he could look her in the eye. "Alice, I don't understand. What could that day possibly have to do with what happened here tonight?" he asked.

"I was just walking down the street when I looked up into your eyes and passed out on the sidewalk."

"I remember," Jasper said. "What happened to you?"

Alice looked down, as if she was afraid of telling him. "I had a vision."

Jasper ran his finger along her jaw, lifting her eyes back to his again. "Tell me," he said softly.

Once she looked him in the eye again it was as if the magnetic connection had sprung up between them again, and she couldn't look away.

"I've had them since I was a child. I could see things that were going to happen. Just glimpses, scenes that would play out in the coming weeks or months, sometimes in ways that I could never anticipate. But I've never passed out like that before." Her words were strong and clear now.

"The vision that day was intense. I've never had one so clear or powerful before, but even as you were helping me up, I could feel it slipping away. That's why I rushed away so quickly that day. The visions are like a dream. If I don't commit them to memory immediately, they fade away."

"But I still don't understand," Jasper interrupted. "You saw what would happen here tonight?"

"I saw a lot of things, but you and Bella were a part of most of them. Even though you were total strangers at the time, I knew our paths were meant to cross." She pressed the palms of her hand to her eyes, as if trying to bring back the images she saw that day.

"I saw Bella dancing with a man, and then the sparks flying and the panic, but I didn't recognize it until it was too late."

Alice tore her eyes away from Jasper finally to look at me. "Bella, when I looked back and saw you dancing with Anthony everything clicked into place, but it was too late to stop it! It all happened so fast! People were screaming and pushing for the door! I should have done something!" She leaned back into Jasper's shoulder sobbing again.

"There was nothing you could have done, sweetheart," Jasper whispered soothingly.

Jasper helped her up after a few minutes, and the three of us walked up the street to his car. A volunteer fireman directed us across the street away from the bar. There were still people everywhere, but the situation had calmed down considerably. It appeared that the fire was out.

Anthony was nowhere to be found. I assumed that he made it out okay. I said a silent prayer for his safety, but otherwise put him out of my mind. I wasn't ready to acknowledge what had happened yet.

Jasper helped Alice into the front seat of his car while I slid into the back.

"I'm going to drop you off first, Bella. I want to make sure Alice is okay before I leave her." Jasper shifted the car into gear, and then reached over to hold Alice's hand as we drove away. She clung tightly to him all the way to my house.

I could already see the connection that was forming between the two of them. I was glad that he was there for her, but I also couldn't help feeling even more alone.

Jasper pulled the car into my driveway. As soon as it stopped he hopped out and opened my door for me.

Before I climbed out, I reached up to pat Alice on the shoulder. "Are you going to be all right?" I asked.

"Yes," she responded in a tired voice. "I've been living with the visions all my life. I've just never had one turn out so real before."

"You go back and get some rest. Jasper will take good care of you. He's always done the same for me."

She smiled and patted my hand in response before I slid out of the car where Jasper was waiting.

"Bella, are you sure you are okay? Maybe the three of us should stay here tonight."

"Don't worry. I'll be fine," I reassured him. "Take Alice home and stay with her for a little while. She needs you more than I do tonight."

"Thanks, Bella." Jasper gave me a quick hug, and climbed back into the car. He waited until I had the door open, before giving a final wave and driving away.

The house was warm and stuffy from baking under the hot sun all day. I moved from room to room opening windows in the hope of catching a cool breeze but it didn't do much good. It was going to be difficult to get to sleep in the sticky heat.

I rifled through my drawer looking for a nightgown that was light enough to be comfortable. My fingers grazed a package wrapped in tissue paper that I had forgotten about. I pulled it out and carefully unwrapped the paper. Inside was a white baby doll nightie that Jasper's mom had given me when I got married.

I never had the chance to wear it. A little spice was the last thing my love life had needed at the time, but she never knew that. I remembered hiding it away as soon as I opened it. I hadn't wanted Jake to see it and fly into a jealous rage.

Pushing the memories of my late husband away, I picked it up and walked into the bathroom to get ready for bed. I ran quickly through my normal bedtime routine, and then changed into the nightie. Without a glance to the mirror I went back to my bedroom to try to get some sleep.

As soon as I walked into the room I could feel the atmosphere shift. It practically crackled with energy. The temperature hadn't changed but it felt almost cool. Where the air had been pure humidity before, it was now dry enough to feel the static electricity.

Looking up, I caught sight of my reflection in the mirror. A stranger stared back at me. She had my hair and my brown eyes, but this woman had something that I never did. She was sexy.

I had never felt sexy. Sex went from being painful to being an obligation in a matter of weeks. At its worst, it became a test of my endurance.

During my counseling after Jake's death I was encouraged to try a little 'self-love', but it never felt right. I knew the mechanics of how it worked, but I could never take myself all the way. Eventually I gave up figuring that it just wouldn't happen for me.

Tonight, with my sexy nightie and my fantasy on the dance floor in my head, I could feel it. I was wound tight as a spring. If it was ever going to happen, I knew tonight was the night to seek out that elusive orgasm.

EPOV

_Two emotions dominated my mind. One was difficult to describe. It filled me to the brim with contentment when she was quiet, and sent ripples through my soul when something made her happy. When she stood outside with her face held up to the sunshine with her hair billowing behind her in the breeze, it filled me with a heat that I never knew in my human life._

_The second emotion was also new to me, but to put a name to it was easy. It was jealousy. I felt it whenever Anthony was in her presence, and it was powerful!_

_I was helpless in the confusion that followed my outburst at the bar. Thank God Jasper was there to pull her to safety. I couldn't even do that much. If something had happened to her, I don't know what I would have done._

_Seeing her there in the alley, I wanted to take her in my arms and comfort her as Jasper was doing for Alice. It seemed so unfair that she should be alone after an incident like that._

_Guilt, fear, and regret were my companions as I followed her home. I prayed that she would fall asleep quickly, and that none of the terror from earlier in the night lingered in her mind to taint her dreams._

_As she entered the bathroom to clean herself up and change for bed, I resolved to stand by and do what I could to ease her mind. If jealousy could bring such a violent response out of me, perhaps another emotion could produce something to soothe her and put her to sleep._

_All my good intentions were cast aside the moment she stepped back into the bedroom. She was a vision in white, an angel without wings._

_She was dressed in a little white slip of a thing. It was made of a fine eyelet lace which left little to the imagination. The wisp of fabric was held on by two thin white straps. It covered her breasts and, just barely, her backside. I had seen her legs before when she worked in those cutoff pants, but seeing her like this was like nothing I'd ever imagined. She was barefoot, so every inch of her long legs was visible to me from her delicate ankles to soft curves of her thighs._

_She breathed through her mouth, her chest rising and falling with each breath as she appraised herself in the mirror. The garment clung tightly, and moved with her body. Through the eyelet lace I could see the red buds of her bosom as they strained against the material._

_Her long brown hair flowed down her back in waves, and her eyes were so dark they looked almost black in the dim light. The contrast against her pale skin and white garment was stunning._

_At first, I thought that she was an angel sent by God, but I quickly dismissed that thought. If I was worthy of such a creature, I wouldn't be trapped here with no body to be touched. I decided instead that she was my punishment either for a life wasted, or for clinging to that life when it was time to move on. As a punishment, she was most effective. I wanted to take her more than I'd ever wanted a woman before in my life, but I was powerless. If I had a body I don't think anything could have stopped me from possessing her in that moment._

_Strangely enough it was this surge of unexpected lust that brought me back to my senses. This was my angel. I could not force myself on her, and I would not stay and ogle her uninvited._

_As I carried on the moral debate inside my mind, she began to move. She touched a button on the radio, filling the room with soft music. Then she paused, her eyes taking in her full reflection once again, as if she had never really seen herself before. Did she realize how dazzling she really was?_

_With a fingertip she traced a soft line over her slightly parted lips, then slid it slowly down her throat to the nape of her neck, where it lingered for just a moment. Next, it moved gently across her collar bone, before sliding down again to trace the scalloped edge of the garment that lay across her breast._

_All this time, her eyes never left her reflection in the mirror. They followed her hand as it traced its path over her body. I wished for the thousandth time that I could read her mind. I longed to know what she was thinking, what inspired her actions tonight._

_She always seemed somewhat innocent before. I sensed that she was no virgin. I had seen the rings she kept in the jewelry box. She must have been married at one time, but in the short time I'd watched her she never showed any serious interest in the opposite sex, at least until…_

_Anthony! The realization hit me like a ton of led. Anthony was the man she danced with earlier tonight. It was his touch that her body remembered. He must have awakened these feelings in her._

_I felt like I had been punched in the gut by that imposter who had stolen my body and my woman. I wrenched myself away from her. I couldn't continue to watch as she thought of another man. It was difficult to fight against the draw of her life force, but at last I managed to put some distance between us. I had almost broken away completely when I just barely heard the whisper of her voice across the dark room._

"_Oh, Edward." She spoke my name! In an instant I had returned to her side, just in time to see that her hand had dropped further. Her finger was now tracing a circle around the red bud beneath the fabric._

"_Yes, Edward, just like that," she murmured softly, squeezing it with her fingertips._

_Any willpower I had remaining was now completely gone. Angel of pain or pleasure, she had called and I was powerless to resist. I still didn't know if it was really me that she called out to, but as long as she used my name I could convince myself that I was the one she wanted._

_She hummed as her hands kneaded her breasts. Her left hand continued its motion while her right palm slid down her stomach to her leg and squeezed her thigh. Her entire body moved with the feeling. She threw her head back with her eyes closed and moaned softly, "I want you to touch me. I want to feel your hands on every inch of my body."_

_I followed the motion of her hand as she moved it slowly around to the back of her leg. Where her front had been covered by a skimpy piece of cloth, her backside was as bare as the day she was born. The cloth in the front was held in place by a tiny piece of string that wrapped around her waist then disappeared between her two soft mounds._

_She ran her fingertips over her bare flesh leaving faint lines on her skin as her fingernails grazed her skin. Her fingertips slid under the string, and slowly, with a sway of her hips, she slid it down her legs._

_If I had a body, I would have been rock hard for her. Just the sight of her alone would have done it. I was, or at least had been, a red-blooded American man. Alone in a room with such a beauty dancing before me, I would not have been able to resist reaching out to touch her._

_Isabella stepped out of the undergarment carefully and moved to the bed, lying down on her back. The only light in the room was provided by one small lamp next to the bed. It was just enough to see the soft mound of curls below the edge of the lace trim._

_I watched in awe as she dipped one finger into the curls and ran it down her slit to the moisture pooled below. She pulled it up again and began tracing lazy circles at a hidden spot._

"_Mmm, just like that," she hummed. A slow smile spread across her face._

_As her right hand continued its motion on her womanhood, her left pulled down the lace at her collar, exposing her breast. She squeezed it, making the delicate bud stand proud. All I could think of was what it would be like to wrap my lips around her nipple and taste her pink flesh._

_She could have read my mind, because at that moment, she tugged hard on it, moaning, "Oh, Edward!"_

_Every time she said my name I felt a ripple of energy flow through my soul. I wanted so badly to take her in my arms, or just participate in the scene unfolding before me in some small way, but I was relegated to watching. I could only stare mutely as she writhed on the bed deriving pleasure from her hands and her silent thoughts alone._

_Once again, the thought that I shouldn't even be here flashed through my mind. I wasn't meant to witness what she had obviously intended to be a private interlude. What would she do if she knew I was here, her silent and adoring voyeur?_

"_Oh, Edward, yes!" she moaned again._

_Her finger stopped its motion long enough to dip far into the well of her womanhood and come out glistening._

_At that moment, I wanted to take her. I wanted to plunge myself into her depths and make her scream my name. It was pure torture to be so close, and yet know that I would never have that satisfaction, or find that spectacular release._

_Isabella's finger resumed its ministrations on that secret spot with renewed vigor. Her entire body began to writhe as her left hand slid down her stomach to her inner thigh, parting her legs._

_I watched with amazement as the tension within her mounted until finally, she screamed, "Oh God, Edward! Yes!" while her body shuddered with ecstasy._

_But my angel's rapture wasn't confined to just the physical realm. As the ripples of pleasure shot through her body, her life force pulsed with energy. It poured into my soul like a lightning bolt searching for the ground, until I thought I couldn't hold any more._

_She lay on the bed gasping while I did the spectral equivalent. My soul now crackled with the life force she had unleashed. I struggled to come to terms with the power now held within me._

_I could tell that it would be easy now to let it slip out in a fit of emotion as it had earlier in the evening. I didn't dare risk losing control like that again. It would be too dangerous for Isabella, or anyone else nearby. I would have to figure out how to channel this gift carefully._

_Isabella rested on the bed for a few minutes. I almost thought she was asleep, but her face held a smile of too much contentment for slumber. Finally, she opened her eyes long enough to crawl under the sheet on her bed._

_Before she turned out the light, she picked Rosalie's diary up off the table, and pulled my picture from inside the front flap. She stared intently for a moment before whispering to herself, "That was amazing, Edward, but the real you must have been even more incredible."_

_The name of that first emotion was now evident to me. One could almost mistake it for lust. Lust was certainly a part of it. I wanted her so badly that it hurt. The power I had gained still had not brought the physical release that she had found._

_But as much as I wanted to connect with her physically, there was more to it. My life was nothing without her. I would do anything for her; even see her with Anthony, if I thought he could truly make her happy._

_It was this willingness to sacrifice my own happiness that told me how I truly felt. I loved her. I had never loved anyone before like this, not even Rose. This was the one thing I was missing in my previous life, the reason I stayed, the element I was searching for._

_This love was now to be my punishment for not following the light when I had the chance. I was fated to find what I longed for, to follow it one step behind, always just out of reach. I looked down at the body of my sleeping angel and realized she was worth it._

* * *

Author's Note:

Okay, how many of the men you know would have been able to look away? Edward is a gentleman in every sense of the word, but even he isn't that strong. And what would Bella say if she knew he had watched her intimate moment?

This took a while to write. I've never done anything quite like it before. Let me know what you think.


	8. Chapter 8  Hangover

**Chapter 8 – Hangover**

Disclaimer: Twilight is owned by Stephenie Meyer. I am only borrowing a few of her characters. The remainder of the story is my own. No reproduction is permitted without my written consent.

**Author's Note:**

Thanks again to Spikey! It is through her dedication that you get these chapters mostly error free.

* * *

I awoke to blinding sunlight shining through my window. Groaning to myself, I immediately rolled over and pulled my pillow over my head, but it did no good. My head continued pounding away.

After lying there for another five minutes, I realized it was hopeless. I was going to have to get up and face the day.

I crept out from my bed and stumbled into the bathroom in search of something to relieve the throbbing in my head. Luckily I found a bottle of Tylenol tucked away in the medicine cabinet. I swallowed them quickly with a glass of water while trying to remember what it was that I drank last night.

Slowly, I managed to open my eyes and take in my appearance in the mirror. My eyes were bloodshot with dark circles under them, matching the feeling in my head. I swore then and there that the next time I went out drinking with Jasper I would limit myself to two.

My eyes scanned lower down my body. I did a double take when I saw what I was wearing. What the heck happened last night? I startled again slightly when I realized the little white nightie was the only thing I was wearing. My panties were nowhere to be found.

I grabbed a washcloth from the rack and wet it with cool water. It felt so good to wash my face, but my head still ached. My brain resisted conjuring up any memories of the night before, but slowly they began to emerge.

I remembered meeting Alice for dinner, and Anthony's brief yet aggravating appearance. I smiled thinking of Alice flirting with Jasper, and how he responded. There was definitely something happening between those two.

I recalled dancing crazily with Alice on the crowded floor as the band played. I don't know how many drinks I had, certainly more than Alice or Jasper. I should have cut myself off, but I was having such a good time, and it had been literally years since I had let loose like that. No, I'd never been that far gone. I went right from underage teenager to wife of a jealous husband. Drunken partying was one of the rights of passage that I had missed growing up.

My heart caught in my throat as I remembered feeling a pair of strong arms surround me, Edward's arms. But then, when the sparks flew, the lights went out and the panic started, it was Anthony standing next to me.

Great, not only was I drunk enough to imagine myself dancing with a dead guy, I now had to deal with the fact that I danced so intimately with someone who was supposed to be working for me. Alone. In my house. The thought of dealing with that awkward situation made my headache even worse, if such a thing were possible. Maybe he drank too much to show up today? No, I won't be so lucky.

I pushed Anthony from my thoughts. I wasn't going to deal with him until I absolutely had to.

I vaguely remembered being pulled out the door with the crowd and finding Jasper and Alice in the alley. She had been so worked up over the whole thing. I hoped he had been able to convince her that it wasn't her fault. I should call her later in the morning.

The effort of recalling the previous night's activities did nothing to help my headache. I went back into my room and lay back down on the bed. It was calling me, saying, 'Bella, go back to sleep. You know you want to!'

I had barely closed my eyes when I was startled by a thump next to the bed. I sat up way too quickly, sending a wave of dizziness through my head. I pressed my fingers into my temples, willing it to clear. When it finally did, I looked over to see what had caused the noise.

Rosalie's diary had fallen off the nightstand and hit the floor. I must have put it too close to the edge the last time I set it down.

I picked it up, checking to see that the picture of Edward still held my place inside and put it back on the nightstand. "I get it, Edward," I said to my imaginary friend. "It's time to face the day."

I pulled myself from the bed with great reluctance and made my way to the dresser to brush my hair. I put on a pair of clean underwear and threw a robe on just in case Jasper was awake. I didn't think he would appreciate my current attire.

Sure enough, Jasper was sitting at the kitchen table, eating a bowl of cereal.

"Good morning, Sunshine," he said with way too much enthusiasm.

"Shut up and get me my coffee," I grumbled as I flopped into the chair across from him. I figured he was responsible for my current state. It was the least he could do.

Jasper chuckled, but complied.

"Here you go, one steaming cup of fresh hangover-eliminating energy," he said, setting the mug down in front of me.

"If I have a hangover, it's entirely your fault," I pointed out.

"If? My dear sister, I saw how much you had to drink last night, paid for it in fact. I know you have a hangover."

"I hope I provided sufficient amusement for you because that won't be happening again anytime soon."

"Aw, come on, Bella. You've been through so much in the past year. You know you needed to let loose a little bit. It was worth it."

"Maybe, but I didn't need the sparks flying, crowd panicking disaster that ended the evening," I said sarcastically.

"Yeah, well you can't blame me for that one. At least we all got out okay."

"Hey, how was Alice last night? I was really worried about her."

"She's okay. She just kept insisting that she could have done something to stop it."

Jasper looked down, swirling the dregs of his coffee in his cup.

"Now that I think about it, it was so strange the way it happened. We were out on the dance floor together. The music was loud, and people crowded around us, but it was like none of them were really there. It was just the two of us in our own little world, and all I could think was, well, never mind." Jasper blushed slightly.

"But anyway, she looked back at you dancing with that Anthony dude and froze. I thought she was angry that you were dancing with him after he pissed her off so badly earlier, but that wasn't it. I could see panic in her eyes when she turned back. She shouted, 'Jasper! We have to get out of here.' That's when all hell broke loose."

"Wow!" I didn't know what else to say.

"I know. I didn't have time to really think about it last night, but somehow, she knew."

He ran his fingers through his hair and sat back in his chair. "Even after I got her home, she kept insisting that it was her fault, that she should have seen it coming."

"But that's impossible. She didn't cause that to happen. It must have been a short in the sound board or something," I insisted.

"I know, but she was almost inconsolable."

"I hope she's feeling better this morning. Maybe I should have insisted that she stay here with us last night."

"I'm sure she's fine now. A good night's sleep will work wonders." Jasper stood up and walked to the sink, returning with my small flower vase with a single daisy.

"This is for you," he said.

"How thoughtful. You were out this morning?" I asked.

"Yeah, I took a little walk, but I need to get going soon. You'll check in on Alice later?"

"I promise. I'm worried about her too, but she might appreciate it more if you called her," I teased.

"Well, watch out if you do talk to her. She's going to rake you over the coals for the way you were dancing with that handyman guy. What's with the two of you anyway?" he asked with a sour expression.

"Nothing is up with us. Why?" I knew very well why he was asking but I didn't want to go there.

"I don't like him," he said sternly.

"Nobody said you had to." I didn't mean to be snarky. I just wasn't in the mood for the coming lecture.

"Come on, Bella, you were practically rubbing yourself all over the guy on the dance floor."

I put my face in my hands, rubbing my eyes. If there was one thing I could change from last night, that moment would be it. Not the hangover, or the fire, or the panic, not anything else. I would just never have danced like that with Anthony.

"Jasper," I said, peeking between my fingers, "There is nothing going on with Anthony. He's helping me to remodel the house. That's it. It won't happen again."

"How do you know it won't happen again? If it happened once, what's to stop it the next time he makes a pass at you?"

"Jasper, first of all, a lot of alcohol was involved last night, much of which you were responsible for," I pointed out. "That definitely won't be happening again anytime soon."

I could still feel my head pounding.

"Second, Anthony is not at all my type. He's vulgar, rude, loud, and thinks way too highly of himself. I know I will be seeing a lot of him here, but believe me, I can control myself."

"It's not you I'm worried about. It's him. He was all over you last night," he growled.

"That was the first time he's even looked at me that way. I'm sure it was just the alcohol."

"Right. The alcohol." I could see that I wasn't convincing him.

"Jasper, look. I'm free to live my own life for the first time in a very long time. I'm not going to waste it by getting attached right away to someone like Anthony."

I closed my eyes, imagining the green-eyed soldier who seemed to be in my thoughts more and more. I wanted to tell Jasper about him, but I knew he would think I really was crazy. Anthony looked so much like him, but he just wasn't the same.

"He isn't who I want," I whispered to myself.

Jasper's eyes shot up. "He isn't? You've got another man hidden away in this town?"

I hadn't meant for him to hear that.

"No, I don't. Believe me. There isn't a man alive right now with whom I want to pursue a romantic relationship."

"Oh, so you don't want to date him, just…"

"Just what, Jasper? Sleep with him?" I shouted. "You think I'm making plans to pick up some guy, bring him home, and screw around with him? I would never get physical with a guy like that, especially if I had just met him!"

Jasper's eyes darted down to his hands. "No I didn't mean it that way. Sleeping with a guy doesn't make you a slut," he said quietly.

That was not the reaction I expected. He apologized way too quickly. There was something he wasn't telling me.

Suddenly it dawned on me.

Alice.

"Jasper, you didn't."

His eyes peeked up at me to gauge my reaction. He did.

"You were just supposed to take her home. Make sure she was okay. I finally make a friend, and you take advantage of her in her time of need?"

"It wasn't like that, Bella," he said defensively.

"Then what was it like?" I was getting angry now. "You call me a slut because I danced with a guy, after you get it on with my one friend in town?"

"I don't know." He stood up abruptly and crossed the room, to lean on the counter above the sink.

"We drove back to her house, and I took her inside. I just wanted to make sure she was settled for the night. I had no intention of staying. We sat down on the couch and started talking about everything that happened. She told me more about that vision that she saw, and… other things."

"Other things?"

"To describe Alice as unusual would be a severe understatement. That whole bit about the auras and the visions is just the tip of the iceberg."

"So let me see if I understand. You're saying that my best friend is crazy, my stepbrother is a manwhore, and I'm a slut!"

"Stop it, Bella. You know that's not what I meant. Yes, Alice has some weird or maybe borderline scary notions, but you know what? I don't care. When I look in her eyes, I just see this incredible, sexy woman. When I kissed her it ignited this hunger in my chest. I couldn't get enough of her. And to make love to her, I can't even describe how incredible it was."

"Whoa, T.M.I, brother." Jasper and I had always been close, but we had never discussed anything intimate like this. He always had a reputation as a bit of a player, but kept it pretty private as far as the family was concerned.

Jasper gazed out my kitchen window for a few moments, seemingly lost in thought. "How do you know if you've met your soul mate?"

"Wait, she's your soul mate now? You've only known her for twenty-four hours. How can you be so sure she is your soul mate?"

"She said so." He turned back to me. "Look, I know it's crazy, but I feel it too. Ever since I saw her two weeks ago I haven't been able to get her out of my head."

"I think that's called infatuation, Jasper."

He shook his head. "No, it's more than that. I don't want to fuck her. I mean, she's hot as hell, but, shit! That didn't come out right. I want to get to know every detail about her. I want to understand every thought in that crazy head of hers. I want to hold her, and protect her from whatever it is that terrifies her in these visions."

"Wow. It sounds like you're in love," I observed, taking a sip of my coffee.

He wouldn't look at me but the pink flush to his cheeks gave him away. I about choked on my drink, and I struggled to swallow it.

"Oh my God, Jasper! You are in love!"

He finally turned his head to look at me. "Bella, I want to wake up next to her every day for the rest of my life and it's scaring the hell out of me."

This was new territory for Jasper. He'd had several relationships, but none lasted more than six months. In fact, he'd never brought anyone home to meet the family since he left for college.

Jasper walked back to the table and slumped back down in his chair. He suddenly looked exhausted. He must not have gotten much sleep.

"Please, Bella, I don't want to mess up your friendship with Alice. Just don't ask me to stay away. I can't do it, and Alice doesn't want that either."

I could see that I was fighting a losing battle, so I decided then and there to give up the fight and embrace it. My new best friend and my stepbrother.

"I guess you can't stop true love." I really was happy for them, so I couldn't help smiling a little. As I did, I saw the tension leave Jasper's face.

"Thanks for understanding, Bella."

"Okay, so if you just spent this incredible night with the new love of your life, what are you doing here?"

"Oh, she kicked me out."

"Jasper! What the hell?"

"Not like that. I explained that I have to get back to Rochester early to work on my research project. She told me I had better get going because I needed to stop in here and check on you before I left town."

"Well, that was nice of her," I conceded. Honestly, I had been feeling a little ticked at her, as well, for sleeping with my brother. "I'll give her a call later. I was going to ask if she wanted to meet for lunch tomorrow."

"I'm sure she'd love that. You know she doesn't have too many friends in this town either."

"How can that be?" I asked sincerely puzzled. "She seems to know everything about everyone."

"She said she lived here when she was younger, but moved away when she was a teenager. I think she just came back recently," he said.

"I sense a story there. Knowing Alice, it will be a good one."

"Well, don't drag it out of her until she's ready to share. She looks tough, but there's a fragile part to her too."

"Don't worry. I'm not going to go driving my best friend away."

When I looked into my brother's eyes, I could tell that we both cared a great deal for Alice. Jasper nodded in understanding.

"Well, much as I'd love to stand here all day and tell you the sordid details of my love life, I really need to get back."

I stood to see him to the door.

Jasper grabbed his overnight bag and slung it over his shoulder before grasping me in a tight hug with the other.

"Take care of yourself, take care of Alice for me, and stay away from that Anthony guy."

I pulled back and punched him in the shoulder.

"Don't worry about me; this is the best I've been in a long time. Thanks for coming out this weekend, Jasper."

"I'll be back soon."

"Bye," I said, waving him out the door.

As I watched him drive away, I couldn't help feeling a little glum. It seemed like there was someone for everyone, except that I had missed my 'someone' by about ninety years.

Regardless, I was still in a better place than I had ever been during my adult life. I resolved then and there to do anything I could to support Jasper and Alice.

"I'm happy for them," I said to Edward/nobody.

"And honestly, I'm just getting my life figured out. Considering how well my marriage went, I'm probably not ready for a relationship like that.

"Still, it would be nice not to be alone," I reflected to Edward/nobody.

A spoon clattered into the sink, startling me from my reverie. Jasper must have left it sitting on the edge.

"Okay, no more depressing thoughts."

I went back upstairs to get changed, hanging my robe on a hook near the doorway. As I walked past the mirror I caught sight of myself.

Suddenly, the memory of what I had done while alone in this room the previous night sprang forth from wherever I had locked it away in my subconscious.

"I wasn't alone last night," I whispered to myself, a slow smile spreading across my face. "I had Edward to keep me company."

I sat back down on the bed as the memory flooded back. It almost didn't seem real now, but I knew it happened. I had actually managed to get myself off, with a little motivation from Edward. A strange sense of pride flooded through me.

I wasn't defective after all. This piece of me, the full experience of being a woman, I could have it. I thought Jake had ruined me, taking away the ability to enjoy physical love. I thought I had missed out on this gratifying aspect of womanhood. It turns out that I just needed the right inspiration.

My still hung-over brain was quick to point out that my muse was a man who had been dead for almost a hundred years. Ha. No pressure there. No worries about the future of a relationship that was impossible from the start. But in some small way it gave me hope that I could find happiness with someone. The only problem was that I wanted the man in the diary, the one who had taken care of his sister, who went off to a terrible war to serve his country.

His death was too heartbreaking to think of. I still didn't know just what happened, but he was gone just the same. Did it really matter how he died?

I didn't think so. I was torn between wanting to finish the diary and not wanting the story to end. Somehow, reading about his death would make it even more real.

As if the stone in the graveyard with the name Edward Masen wasn't real enough.

I reluctantly stood up. I needed to take a shower and get dressed. I was expecting Anthony to come by later to fix the hole in my roof, and I absolutely didn't want him to catch me dressed as I was.

After I had gotten cleaned up, I curled up in my favorite chair with the diary and my laptop, to read the next few entries. As I got comfy, I noticed that the ring I had hung in the window a few days before was slowly spinning. I thought it was strange that I had never noticed a draft in the room, but I guess you get that in old houses like this one.

* * *

Diary of Rosalie Masen

July 29, 1917

We've finally received word from Edward! He wrote Father yesterday telling him that he was at Camp Mills in Long Island for basic training. He isn't sure how long he will be there or where he will go next.

I'm so relieved to hear from him. And best of all, he sent me my very own letter today. He said that he was so sorry to leave like that without telling me. It wasn't that he thought I would beg him to stay or tell father what he had planned. He just couldn't bear the thought of having to say goodbye.

Emmett was right about him. By the time he was done apologizing in his letter, I couldn't be angry with him anymore.

I wrote back immediately, telling him that he was the bravest person I knew, and how proud I am. It was the truth. To give up the safety and security of our little town, to go against Father's wishes, and enlist in the army to fight such a terrible war, I couldn't imagine anyone braver than Edward.

But it was only a partial truth. I didn't tell him how scared I was for his safety. Scared is an understatement. I am terrified that I will never see him again. I keep imagining him lying on a battlefield in France, slowly bleeding to death, or worse, blown to bits by a shell landing in the trench next to him. I don't even want to think about the poisoned gas.

I lie awake in bed each night wondering what the future holds. Just a few weeks ago, I had everything all planned out. I would grow up, get married to a fine, upstanding man, have children, and dedicate my life to working on the charity committees like mother. Now, I have no idea what the future holds. I'm not sure if I even want that fantasy. At times I think I could still have it, but when I think about the danger facing Edward, everything else pales in comparison.

At times like that all I can do is pray.

August 3, 1917

Edward wrote again today. His training is exhausting but his spirits are high. It seems to be a test of physical endurance more than anything else. He said he only had time to scribble a few lines before they turned the lights out on him, so I didn't get any new details.

I saw Emmett, I mean Mr. McCarty, on the street yesterday. He tipped his hat to me and went about his business. I resolved not to even mention it here, but I can't help it. He's so handsome that he just lingers in my mind. I actually managed to stop thinking about him for a few days, but then I turned a corner and there he was.

Now when I think about the future, my husband isn't some faceless man who goes about his day eating his breakfast, reading his paper, going to work, and generally ignoring me like my father does to my mother. Now, it's Emmett's face I see. I imagine what he would think of my new hat, or how I would like to stroll down the street on a summer day with my arm wrapped around his.

And when I'm lying alone in bed trying not to worry about Edward, sometimes I think about Emmett's fingers touching my cheek, or his nose rubbing gently against mine as he leans in to kiss me. It's still painful when I wake up and realize it can only happen in my imagination, but much less so than letting my mind run over with fears for Edward.

Why do I have to be so consumed with a man I can't have. Edward was right that night after the dance. Father would never approve. Emmett may be a capable manager but he's practically a stranger to this town. Father would insist on my husband being a man from a good family.

It's not like he sees me as anything but a child anyway. I thought we shared a connection that day when he finally told me about Edward's enlistment, but since then I haven't gotten more than two words from him.

Unhappiness seems to be my lot in life.

August 6, 1917

I've decided to take matters into my own hands. Both my father and my beau (at least I wish he was my beau) think that I'm still a child. I am going to prove them wrong.

I have become a suffragette!

Jane's sister Kate joined the suffrage movement a few months ago. She told us all about it the other day when I was visiting. She is a member of the Evanston chapter of the National Woman's Party. As soon as I heard that someone had organized a group so near to home I couldn't hide my excitement. I begged her to take me to the next meeting, and she agreed.

Yesterday afternoon, Jane and I accompanied her on a trip to the office in Evanston. It's really just a small room above the Woolworth's, but when we arrived it was bustling with activity.

Kate introduced us to Esme McCullough, the Chief Organizer of the local chapter, as new recruits. She immediately set us to work folding flyers. Jane got bored quickly and started hinting that she was ready to leave, but I was just thrilled to be doing something productive for the first time in my life. I couldn't help imagining what Father would do if he found out. It was a little frightening, but so exciting at the same time.

By the time we had finished with the flyers, the room was packed with women for the meeting. We started with the pledge of allegiance. Esme ran the meeting with precision and efficiency according to Robert's Rules of Order.

She allowed a bit of debate on whether or not we should be supporting the war effort. Even though it was my first meeting, I couldn't help but stand up and say that I thought we should do everything in our power to support our troops, whether they be here or abroad. After all, they are our brothers and sons. After a few more minutes Esme called for us to vote on the issue, and we overwhelmingly agreed that we would support it. I could see that many of the women who seemed to be on the fence initially were now firmly in favor. I suspected that this was Esme's intent all along.

Once the question on the war effort was settled, we delved into the real objective of our organization, getting the New York State Assembly to pass a bill giving women the right to vote. We discussed several ways to get the word out, and decided that our first effort would be to march in the Labor Day parade next month.

A few women said they could help with preparations, but weren't available to march in the parade. Well, Esme wouldn't hear of it. She gave an impassioned speech about the need for each of us to stand up and be proud of our cause. She said that if we weren't brave enough to march down the street that day and stand up to the men who controlled our fate then we didn't deserve the right to vote. 'Deeds, not words' she reminded us.*

Esme was an amazing woman. She radiated confidence. After being around her for just a few hours I couldn't imagine that we would not be successful. It made all of us want to work that much harder to bring it to fruition.

Just as we were preparing to leave, Esme sought me out. "Rosalie," she said, "I'm so glad you joined us today. I think your comments on the war effort helped sway more than a few of our members to our side of the issue."

"No, it can't be. Why would anyone consider the opinion of a sixteen year old girl on something so important?" I replied.

Esme grew stern. "Don't ever underestimate yourself or the power of your will, Rosalie Masen! I see something in you that I don't see often in young women. You may be only sixteen, but you could be the leader of this organization some day. With a little experience, you could have the women in this room ready to storm the White House for the cause. It doesn't even occur to them that you are the same age as their own daughters.

"Don't ever hold back your opinion. It has as much validity as that of any other woman in this room, including my own. I want to hear it! We all need to hear it!" Her voice softened as she continued, "I don't want to frighten you. I know that this is a lot to think about, but please, go home and ponder it, and trust me. There is a mountain of untapped potential inside of you. I can see it." With that, she shook my hand and left.

Esme's words stayed with me the rest of the day. The more I thought about them, the more excited I became. I had left the meeting believing firmly in the suffrage movement, but now I can see a place for myself within it. I have a contribution to make. I don't know what it will be, but I know that, somehow, I will make it stronger.

The entire way home, Jane prattled on about the different hats each of the women wore, and what they said about each one's place in society. Finally, she made a comment that caused me to snap.

"And did you see that dowdy bonnet that Eliza Greene was wearing! You would never be caught dead in such a thing, Rose," she sneered.

"Jane! Did you hear any part of the discussion in the meeting? This has nothing to do with what hats we wear or what street we live on. This is about fighting to give women the right to vote! If we're successful, it would mean that each and every woman in that room could have a say in our future government, regardless of how much she paid for her hat!" I snipped.

Jane gave me a hurt look, but thankfully, she finally ceased her chatter.

Sometimes I feel like Jane and I are headed in different directions. I'm determined to chart my own path while she is content to follow the one laid out before her. I wish she would just open her eyes and really look at the world around us.

* * *

EPOV

_If I thought I was frustrated before, today had taken it to a whole new level. I was elated last night when I realized that I could influence her world. I deliberated and planned while I watched her sleep. I wanted her to know I was here, and to understand how I felt about her, but at the same time I didn't want to scare her._

_I was still wary of this newfound ability, and I was careful in how I let it manifest itself. As I assessed my results, I decided that I had been a little too careful. In a few cases I was able to get her attention, but these were ordinary occurrences. A book falling, a spoon clattering, she thought nothing of it._

_And then there was the flower I left for her. I had just started to like Jasper. After all, he did save her when I screwed up at the club the night before, and he seemed to share my intense dislike of that bastard of a nephew of mine, but when he gave her the flower that I had left on the doorstep for her, I almost blew up all over again. Fortunately, I was already gaining a measure of control over this newfound ability._

_It was obvious, though, that if I wanted Isabella to notice me I was clearly going to have to get more creative._

_Every time she said my name it got my hopes up just a little bit. She would hold entire conversations with me. It was one-sided, naturally, but at least she spoke to me. I could spend hours imagining that she knew I was here, hanging on her every word._

_Then reality would come crashing back. She would make some little dig, some sarcastic comment on how she must be crazy for talking to me._

_It hurt. I hated being caught here just out of her reach, watching her doubt herself and me._

_But even worse was the fear that one day she would stop. One day she would finish reading the diary, and both Rose and I would fade once again from existence. No more talks, no more thoughts._

_What I had couldn't be called a life in any sense of the word, but it was all that was left to me and I clung to it desperately._

_I was reminded of the injured soldiers in the hospital in London. There were a few who were unconscious, had been for weeks. I used to wonder if they were still locked away in their minds, able to think and hear, but otherwise dead to the world. Is this what they went through? For their sakes, I hoped not._

_Still, I wasn't ready to give up. I would try harder tomorrow. She would acknowledge me, or I would fade away trying._

* * *

**Author's Note:**

* "Deeds not words" was the slogan of the Women's Social and Political Union founded by Emmeline Parkhurst. Alice Paul joined the Parkhurst family's suffragist cause while she was in England, and brought the slogan back with her when she returned to the United States in 1910.

Rose is becoming more prolific than I originally planned. It's throwing off the timing of a few of my chapters, but I think I can deal. Her story is not the central plot, but it is important because it will tie up several loose strings down the road.

I hope all are enjoying the story. I really appreciate all the comments. They make this whole exercise worthwhile.

See you in a few weeks!

The White Pen


	9. Chapter 9: Alice's Confession

**Disclaimer**: Twilight is owned by Stephenie Meyer. I am only borrowing a few of her characters. The remainder of the story is my own. No reproduction is permitted without my written consent.

Thanks again to my beta, Spikey. You're awesome!

* * *

**Chapter 9 – Alice's Confession**

**Diary of Rosalie Masen**

August 17, 1917

I'm so excited! I just got back from another chapter meeting. The focus for this meeting was to plan for the upcoming Labor Day parade.

After much debate, -we can't seem to accomplish anything without a great deal of debate- we decided that we would march in rows of four carrying a banner in front of us. We wanted a uniform, but given our limited budget, we decided that we will wear gold sashes saying 'Votes for Women' and simple straw hats with purple trim.

I thought Jane would complain about the hats the moment they were brought up, but she barely opened her mouth in the meeting. I spoke out strongly in favor of them.

It still amazes me sometimes, how the women in our little organization seem to respect my opinion. I mean, I get no more preference than anyone else that chooses to speak up, but certainly more so than the silent little sheep like Jane, who are either too shy or can't be troubled to voice their opinion. Truly, it is a relief that for once I don't have to keep my thoughts to myself.

At the end of the meeting, Esme stood up and told us what to expect during the parade. She had been present at the Washington parade in 1913. She described to us in detail the treatment some of the marchers experienced at the hands of the crowd.

"The parade began in what seemed to be an orderly manner," she said. "It was a cold winter day, but the weather was cooperative. Our group was lined up four abreast, about two blocks behind the leaders. For the first few blocks everything was fine, but then suddenly our progress slowed to a snail's pace. The crowd surged into the street and before we knew it, our orderly ranks were forced into an almost single file line at some places to pass through the mass of people.

"The men laughed at us, and when that wasn't enough, they pushed, and tripped, and grabbed at us. Many of the women who fought back were arrested and carted off quickly.

"And the language used by those men! I didn't know what half the words meant, but I could make a good guess based on the other half. I had to ask Carlisle, my husband, to explain a few of them when I returned home. He was furious. He swore he was not going to let me march alone ever again.

"But the worst part was the policemen. They did nothing to defend us! They just stood back and watched, enjoying the spectacle! Those men swore an oath to protect the innocent, and I pray that the lord has mercy upon them because many of them will have to answer to their maker for it someday."

For Esme, it was a defining moment. Where she had once been on the periphery of the movement, that day solidified her resolve to see the cause through to the end. She will not give up until every woman in this country has secured the right to vote.

I was almost embarrassed to say that I knew nothing of the events of 1913. Of course, I was eleven years old at the time, but still, to be so completely unaware that such pivotal proceedings were being carried out in this country brought home to me more than ever just how completely sheltered I have been.

On the ride home, Jane finally managed to find her tongue, complaining loudly about the straw hats. Kate and I ignored her, choosing instead to discuss the upcoming parade.

Esme doesn't expect us to encounter the same level of violence and abuse that she saw in Washington, but I'm still nervous.

August 24, 1917

Had a letter from Edward today. He was surprised that I've become a Suffragette, but he's supportive of anything I do. He said that if anyone can convince the men of this town to give women the vote, I can.

It's not the men in general that I worry about, just one in particular, my father. If he finds out what I'm doing he'll lock me up and throw away the key.

Edward said training has been tough, but he's managing. They haven't let him pick up a gun yet. The thought of Edward firing a gun gives me chills. The thought of someone shooting at him gives me nightmares.

Emmett was in town today. He didn't see me. Or if he did, he chose not to acknowledge me. He was talking to that tramp, Tanya McMaster. She's welcome to have him. I have more important things to occupy my time. If only my heart wouldn't skip a beat every time I saw him.

September 3, 1917

What a day! The parade went off without a hitch, but the events afterward were much more thrilling!

We all had butterflies in our stomachs when we lined up at the start of the parade route. All right, I was so terrified that my stomach felt more like it had a flock of pigeons inside. My biggest concern was that someone would provoke us, or find some way to make fools of us.

I also worried that somehow my father would find out. I kept imagining him standing on the side of the parade route. I could almost see the surprise on his face when he recognized his beloved daughter marching among the suffragettes. I imagined the different ways he could react, from stony silence as we marched by, to a violent confrontation where he would pull me from the ranks and order me home immediately. In any case, I would end up locked in my room alone for two years until he married me off to a like-minded husband who would then take me home and lock me away for the rest of my life. Maybe I'm being a little dramatic, but I still think the threat is very real.

I can admit all this now that it is over and done with, but I would do it again in a heartbeat. In fact, I know I will. Now that I've had a taste for it I don't think I could live with myself if I didn't speak out for what I thought was right, regardless of any oppressive fathers, chauvinistic husbands, or rat fink suitors who may stand in my way!

Back to the parade though. Esme lined us up in rows and instructed us on how to maintain formation throughout the march. Several of the women had marched before, but many of us were new recruits. I must say that we looked so smart in our hats and sashes.

Jane and I were the youngest members, so Esme placed us up front holding the large banner proclaiming us to be the local chapter of the National Women's Party.

Esme's encounters in the Washington, D.C. parade weren't far from anyone's thoughts, but I'm happy to say that the crowd was reasonably well behaved. There were a few catcalls and shouts for us to go home where we belong, but many of the women and a few of the men in the crowd cheered. It was exhilarating!

After the parade we had a booth set up for people to sign our petition to be sent to members of the New York State Assembly. Kate was signed up to work in the booth for an hour, so Jane and I decided to walk around town while we waited.

A few of the men snickered at us as we walked, but we held our heads up high and ignored them for the most part. There was only one foul man in the entire state who could ruin my day, and of course, he was lying in wait for us.

Jane and I were walking past a narrow alley between two stores when I felt a hand reach out and grab tightly to my arm, jerking me back into the alley.

"Well, well, well. If it isn't Daddy's little Suffragette," sneered Royce King.

Jane had followed me into the alley, but when she saw who had me cornered, she didn't waste any time. She ran.

Royce paid her no mind. "I wonder," he continued. "Does Daddy know what you're up to?"

He must have caught the fleeting look of panic that crossed my eyes, because a grin spread slowly across his face.

"I don't think he does. Now what would Daddy say if he found out that his little girl was traipsing around town like a common whore?" he asked as he fingered my gold sash.

I slapped his hand away from me. "Royce King, you leave me alone!"

His grin was replaced instantly with a look of anger as he caught both my wrists tightly in his hands. "If your Daddy was here, he would teach you some manners. But, that's okay, I'm happy to do the job for him."

He pushed my wrists to the wall and tried to kiss me, but I jerked away. This only incited him further, and he attacked my neck instead. I struggled against him, but he was so much bigger that I couldn't get him off of me.

Finally I screamed.

As the sound left my chest, Royce jerked backward. A fist landed squarely in his face and he stumbled backward and fell to the ground. This was the second time I had seen him sprawled on the ground, and once again, it was Emmett that towered over him.

"You didn't learn your lesson! Royce King, if you ever lay another finger on this woman, I will pound you into oblivion!" Emmett shouted.

Royce staggered to his feet. "What do you care, McCarty? What is she to you?" Suddenly a look of recognition came into his eyes. "Oh, I get it. You're in love with the Boss's daughter!"

"You can think what you want. I promised her brother that I would look out for her, and I intend to do so, especially if it means I get to squash a nasty son of a bitch like you."

Royce knew he was no match for Emmett, but he still seemed to think he had the upper hand. As he backed away from us down the alley, he called out, "I wouldn't be too quick to stake a claim on her, McCarty! Daddy isn't going to like it one bit."

Emmett took a step in his direction, fists clenched. "Beat it!" he yelled.

Royce fled.

When he had disappeared, I felt like I could breathe. My knees were weak and I leaned back on the filthy brick wall for support.

Emmett didn't turn to look at me. He just stared down into the darkness as if he expected Royce to reappear any second.

"What is it with you getting cornered by that rat in dark alleys?" he said finally.

The anger in his voice startled me.

"I … I don't know," I stuttered, confused.

The relief I had felt at Royce's departure was now chased away by Emmett's anger. The rapid shifting of emotions was making me dizzy.

"Do you have any idea what he could have done to you? Royce King is not a nice man, Rosalie. I know what he's capable of, and for some reason, you've caught his eye. What were you doing down here with that louse anyway?" At last, he turned and looked me. I could see the pain in his eyes, but I didn't know why it was there. Royce was gone. Why was he still so upset?

"Do you think I sought this out?" I said angrily. "Jane and I were just walking down the street when he caught me by the elbow and dragged me in here. I was terrified!"

Emmett closed his eyes and shook his head, his hands still balled into fists. "I'm sorry, Rosie. I was just so…"

I had never seen him so worked up before, not even after the first fight two months earlier. I hardly dared hope that it was because he cared for me.

Boldly, I closed the distance between us and took his hand in mine. His knuckle was split from hitting Royce. I kissed it gently before whispering, "So what?"

"Oh, God, Rosie, I was so scared that I wouldn't be able to find you, that he would hurt you before I could stop him."

We were standing so close that only our clasped hands separated our bodies. I felt like my heart was on fire as it raced in my chest. Emmett still had not opened his eyes, but he leaned down, touching his forehead to mine.

"I was so afraid that you would slip through my fingers."

And then, he kissed me!

Not on the back of my hand, or a peck on the cheek, it was a full kiss on the lips! My heart thundered, and for a moment it felt like I was no longer inside my own body. I had been Rosalie Cullen for seventeen years, but not once during those years did I ever dream that being Rosalie Cullen could feel like this. For that moment the rest of the world ceased to exist, and it was just the two of us living in this dream.

Too soon, he broke away pulling back so that only our foreheads were touching again. He was breathing heavily. I wished he would open his eyes so that I could read his expression, but he seemed almost afraid to.

"Emmett?" I whispered.

A look of regret spread across his face as he pulled further away.

"I'm so sorry, Miss Rosalie. I didn't mean for that to happen."

He's sorry? Miss Rosalie? No!

"Emmett McCarty, you can't just kiss me like that and then go back to calling me Miss Rosalie!"

He tore himself away from me, and for a moment I was afraid he would leave me there.

"No, I sent Royce packing, only to force myself onto you. I'm no better than he is."

I couldn't believe it. This man had just given me the most exciting, romantic first kiss a girl could imagine, and here he was writing it off like it was a mistake.

A nice girl would have stood there and accepted his humble apology, and let him escort her meekly back to her friends. A nice girl would have put the incident out of her mind and never thought of it again, and would have ignored him disdainfully if they did meet again someday.

I had always been raised to be a nice girl who obeyed every rule of decorum, but at that moment, the revelation hit me! I am not a nice girl!

I stomped over to where Emmett was standing, forcing him to face me.

"Emmett McCarty, you listen to me! You are nothing like Royce King. He is the most vile and repulsive man on this earth. You are kind and caring and not afraid to stand up for others in need."

I placed my hands on his chest, causing him to inhale sharply.

"And when you kissed me just now," I paused not quite knowing how to continue.

Emmett was silent, but his eyes pleaded with me to continue.

"It was just…" There were no words to describe it, so instead I reached up on my tiptoes and pressed my lips to his again.

This time was even better than the last. I could feel him smile as I kissed him. His strong arms wrapped around me lifting me from my feet and I squealed as he swung me in a circle. I've never had so much joy in my heart and at that moment, I knew he felt it too.

His booming laugh rang out as he put me down.

"Baby, you have no idea what you do to me," he said with a grin. "I've wanted to do that since I first laid eyes on you that night in the alley." His expression sobered immediately.

"Why is it that I always seem to be rescuing you?"

I tried to make light of the situation. "I'd promise never to walk down a dark alley again, except that it always seems to end so well. I'd brave a thousand wicked men just to see you run them off each time."

"Rosie, how do you know I'll always be there to protect you?"

"Well, you seem to be making a habit of it. In fact, I think you are the only one who bothers anymore."

I looked down, away from him. The last thing I wanted him to see was a tear in my eye.

Emmett pulled me into a tight hug. With my head on his shoulder, and his arms around me, I felt safe, and cared for; something I really hadn't felt since Edward had left.

"You really miss him, don't you. Have you heard from him?"

"Yes, Edward wrote me a letter just the other day. His training is grueling, but he's glad to be there. I just worry about him so much, and at the same time I feel so useless here."

"Rosie, you could never be useless." He pulled away, taking my hands, while his eyes took in the yellow sash that I still wore. "You alone could accomplish more than half the women in this town put together.

"You looked so strong and proud as you marched down the street. Those men were awful today, but you just held your head high and marched right past. I couldn't help thinking that if you were my girl, I'd meet you at the grand stand, pull you into my arms. Well, I probably shouldn't be thinking about kissing you on a public street, or at all for that matter." His smile turned into a frown. Still he was resisting this!

"But why? I agree that I wouldn't make a public spectacle of it, but what's wrong with this right here?" I stomped my foot in annoyance.

"You know your father would never allow it. What would we do? Run off and elope? You would lose your family, I would be canned so fast…"

"I don't want to run off and get married, but…"

"No, Rosie, I won't have you give up your family for me. Let's give it some time. We'll figure something out."

"Time. I guess that's the one thing we have plenty of. But, can you please do one thing for me?"

"Anything," he said, kissing the back of my hand that he still held.

"Just don't ignore me again. I don't think I could stand that again, especially after today."

"I could never ignore you, Rosie. I fell so hard for you that night we met, you have always been first in my thoughts."

"And…"

"Yes," he said, folding my hand into his.

"Kiss me on more time?"

* * *

**BPOV**

I was having the most scatterbrained morning! You'd think that an independent woman, living on her own, would be able to get ready for lunch with her friend without too much difficulty. This was just not my morning.

I had been up reading the diary last night in bed, and must have fallen asleep with it open. When I woke up, the book had fallen to the floor, but Edward's picture was lying on my pillow next to me. I practically drooled on it. Fortunately, it wasn't wrinkled or wet. It was my only picture of him, and I couldn't bear it if something were to happen to it. I flipped quickly to the page where I had left off the day before and slid the picture inside.

Looking at the clock, I realized that I was supposed to meet Alice for an early lunch in just half an hour. I climbed out of bed without bothering to straighten the sheets and jumped into the shower.

I washed my hair and shaved my legs in record time. After wrapping a towel around my body, I ran back to my room to get dressed.

It took almost as long to find something to wear as it did to take a shower. It's not that I was worried about my appearance. I just hadn't done laundry in forever, and was running out of clothes.

I dropped the towel with a quick glance around the room. For some reason, ever since that night after the fire I was self conscious of being naked in my room. I don't know who I was worried about seeing me. It wasn't like Anthony was ever around this time of day, and when he was, he made so much noise that he was impossible to miss. Besides, I hadn't seen him since the incident at the bar two nights before. I hoped that he still intended on finishing my house, or at least the hole in the roof.

Maybe it was Edward that I worried about, as if his ghost had come back to life like some otherworldly peeping tom? No, Edward wouldn't do that. And even if he did put in an appearance, I didn't think I would need to hide from him.

"Crazy, crazy Bella," I mumbled to myself.

I put on my old underwear and found one last clean t-shirt in my drawer. It was rattier than I wanted, but everything else I had was too dressy for lunch in my little town.

I flipped open my jewelry box to look for some earrings, but realized that I couldn't put them in until I dried my hair. I ran back to the bathroom and stopped short for a second. I knew I had left the light on, but it was now off. I thought that was odd, but didn't have time to ponder it.

I dried my hair quickly. At least the front was dry. The back was still damp, but I never really worried about what the back of my head looked like. This time I most definitely left the light switch on because I still needed to brush my teeth.

Back in my room, I opened my jewelry box, and again experienced a moment of déjà-vu. I know I had left it open, but now the lid was closed. Maybe I hadn't flipped it back far enough and it had fallen shut.

Once my earrings were in place and I was fully dressed with matching socks, I went back to the bathroom to brush my teeth.

The light was out again.

"Come on! Do you really have something against the wasting of finite resources?" I shouted to nobody/my house/Edward.

None of them answered me.

I sighed in frustration, but decided I would worry about it later, and grabbed my toothbrush instead.

Finally ready, I rushed out the door, keys and purse in hand, only to almost trip over the doorstep. Lying in the middle of the step was a beautiful daisy, just like the one Jasper had picked the day before. I don't know who had left it there, but I couldn't just walk by. I picked it up and placed it in the vase on the kitchen counter that held the other one.

Mentally cursing my sentimentality, I finally managed to get out the door and into my truck. Fortunately, the truck was cooperating that day. It started right up.

When I got to the diner, I couldn't find Alice at first. I thought that she either gave up and left, or was running later than I was. Finally, I noticed a work boot tapping nervously as its owner hid behind one of the extra large menus.

"Alice?"

"Hey, Bella," she said timidly, peeking out from behind her menu.

"Alice, are you okay?" I asked. I didn't know what to make of her strange behavior.

"I'm great. How are you?" she said nervously.

"Fine?" I replied. "Alice, what's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong, at least I think everything is fine," Alice answered, but now she seemed distracted. She looked at me intently, then focused on something behind me. I turned to see if the waitress had walked up behind me, but all I could see was empty floor and a blank wall. Her eyes flickered between me and the empty spot a few times.

"Are you sure you're okay?" I asked.

"Yes. Sorry. I'm a little spacey today."

The waitress came to take our order, then left to get the drinks.

The tension at the table had disappeared momentarily, but it was back in full force the moment she left. I didn't know what to do about it. I couldn't think of anything I did to cause it. Alice and I had been on the road to becoming the best of friends. Now she was so distant. The only thing to happen since then was… Jasper.

"I have a confession to make," Alice blurted out suddenly, avoiding my eyes.

"What could you possibly have to confess?" I asked.

"When I first met Jasper, I thought the two of you were together," she said.

"I know. We discussed it that night at the bar, remember?"

"Yes, but that's not all. I knew from the first moment I laid eyes on him that he was my soul mate. That's why I was reluctant to go out with the two of you at first. I knew where it would lead. I thought that by letting it happen I was going to totally disregard our friendship and steal him from you.

"I didn't want to do that to you, but at the same time, you can't fight fate. I saw it. I closed my eyes and saw the two of us together. I avoided it for days, but I kept running into you, and you were always so nice to me. I swore I would do whatever it took to keep from hurting you. I thought I would be safe as long as Jasper wasn't around, but then he just showed up the other day. And what do I do? I literally fall into his arms. At that moment, I knew I couldn't fight it anymore. I decided to just go with it and let the chips fall where they may. I'm so sorry!" She gasped for breath and buried her face in her elbow on the table to avoid looking at me.

Her confession was almost comical. The only reason I could hold back my laughter was because she was so serious about it. I guess I could see why she was upset, but I couldn't bring myself to be angry about the thought of her stealing Jasper from me. I just couldn't think of him in that way.

"Alice, there's nothing to be sorry about. I'm just glad the subject came up when it did." She was being ridiculous, but I couldn't say that. "Really, Alice, I couldn't be happier."

Finally she looked back up at me with a smile on her face.

"You have no idea how relieved I was when you said he was your stepbrother."

"Oh, I could tell. I had to explain it to Jasper." I laughed thinking of his reaction.

"No, really? What did he say?" she asked, suddenly intrigued by the possible insight into his mind.

"He couldn't believe you would be into him like that. I swear that man is blind when it comes to women, or at least the ones worthy of his attention." We both shared a laugh at Jasper's expense.

"I just think that sometimes he doesn't see women clearly at all. He's quite a catch, but you are the first person he's dated that I actually approve of."

"He's been waiting for me to come along. He just didn't realize it," she said with a knowing look.

"I was so worried when he came home yesterday morning, and admitted what he'd done, or what the two of you had done," I sad awkwardly. "I'm guessing by your reaction that he didn't take advantage of you."

Alice blushed slightly at my statement.

"Well, like I said. It wasn't really him doing the taking. He was the perfect gentleman, comforting me after the scare at the bar. He tried to leave three times, but I wouldn't let him. Once I got over the fear from the vision and the fire, and realized that the two of us were alone together I just couldn't keep my hands off of him." She placed her hand over her eyes, but peeked back at me through her fingers."I hoped you don't think I'm some mega slut for jumping your brother. I swear I've never done that before."

Wow! Jasper didn't stand a chance. I almost felt bad for yelling at him now. Almost.

"No, I don't think you're a slut. I think if anyone can tame Jasper, it's you, Alice. Just promise me one thing?"

She dropped her hand and looked at me with an earnest expression.

"Anything."

"Whatever you guys do, I don't want to know the details. Jasper may only be my stepbrother, but I still don't want to hear about his escapades in the bedroom. I've already heard enough to want to scour my brain."

"I'll try," she said with a smirk, "but honestly, sometimes I have no control over what comes out of my mouth."

"Jasper is normally pretty tight-lipped, but even he couldn't contain himself yesterday morning." Alice couldn't hide a huge smile. "The best part about this, though, is that I feel like I'm gaining a sister. I mean, I know you've only been together for a few days, but somehow you just belong in our family."

Alice blinked back tears from her eyes.

"Bella, you have no idea how much that means to me. I've been alone for so long, it makes you really appreciate having people who care."

"What do you mean you're alone? I thought you had family in town." I asked, puzzled.

"Well, technically, Anthony is my cousin, and I also have crazy Uncle Aro here, but we've never been close, quite the opposite actually." Alice sighed and leaned back in her seat.

"I might as well tell you my life story. I was born in North Carolina to Mary and George Brandon. It was your typical middle class upbringing. We weren't rich, but we had a small house in a nice neighborhood."

"We used to spend a week here every summer visiting with my Great-Grandma Rose. My mother was her only surviving grandchild, and I was an only child. I loved her so much. She doted on me." Alice smiled warmly at the memory.

"When I was eighteen, I went off to school to study horticulture, but that was cut short when my parents were killed in a car accident my freshman year."

"Oh, Alice," I said, reaching for her hand, "I'm so sorry. I had no idea."

"No, don't be sorry. It was just one of those things that you can't predict. It could have happened to anyone, but for some reason fate chose them. I know that they loved me, and I remind myself of that every day.

"So after the accident, I had to drop out of school. I thought my parents had saved for retirement, but they had made some bad investments, one in particular. They had been wiped out, and had taken out a loan to pay for my school tuition. I dropped out while dealing with all the estate problems."

"I can't imagine going through something like that alone," I said.

"Oh, I wasn't alone. I still had Great-Grandma Rose," she replied affectionately. "She was one hundred and seven years old, but she was still going strong. She was my rock through all the difficult times. I moved up here to be close to her.

"It turned out to be the best thing I could have done. She needed me as much as I needed her. I hadn't realized how lonely she was here. My great-grandfather and most of their closest friends had already passed away.

"You would have loved my Grandma. She was a fighter. She actually marched for the suffrage movement. Even after women won the right to vote she never stopped working for equal rights."

My heart stopped for a moment. Could Alice's Great-Grandma Rose be the Rosalie from the diary?

Alice didn't notice my surprise, but continued, "You know, my great-grandfather built your house? They lived in it right after they got married. Eventually they sold it and moved to a bigger one in town as their family grew."

"The McCarty house?" I squeaked out.

"Yes. She was Rosalie McCarty."

But that would mean that she married Emmett.

"What was her maiden name?" It was way too much of a coincidence, but I had to know for sure that it was her.

"Rosalie Masen. She grew up right here in town. She was the only girl in the family, but she had two brothers, James and Edward. I think Edward was killed in World War I, but James lived and had a family. He was Anthony's great-grandfather."

My heart thundered. It was unbelievable to find that my new best friend was actually tied in such an intimate way to this story that was unfolding in a 90-year-old diary.

The knowledge that Rose actually married Emmett made me so happy for her, but at the same time, I was disappointed. It was a little like having someone tell you how the book ends before you read it for yourself.

"We spent two years together before she died of a stroke last summer," Alice continued sadly.

"Alice, I'm so sorry."

"Don't be. It was her time. She was ready," she said, wiping a small tear from her eye.

"I got through it okay," she continued. "In some ways, it was easier than losing my parents. She's with my great-grandfather now. She missed him so much. I know they are happy together now, and I'll meet them again eventually."

Alice's belief in the afterlife was unwavering. I was envious. My family had never really been church goers, and after my marriage, I had trouble believing that there was anyone out there looking out for me. The thing was, I wanted to believe so badly. The thought of meeting Edward someday actually made my heart skip a beat.

"The worst part about it was that I was alone again. I thought about moving, but I couldn't do it. Something kept telling me that I needed to wait here. Now I know why. If I had left, I never would have found my new best friend, or my soul mate."

I couldn't help but grin back at Alice. The truth was, I felt the same, except, I felt like fate had drawn me here. And honestly, I needed a friend every bit as much as Alice did.

Our food arrived, and as we ate, we chatted on more mundane things. Several times throughout our meal, I noticed Alice looking over my shoulder with a puzzled expression on her face.

Eventually I turned around expecting to see the waitress, or another customer, or something other than the drab grey wall.

Finally I had to ask, "Alice, what is so interesting behind me?"

"Sorry." She shook her head as if to clear it. "It's strange. Your aura is positively glowing this morning. I'd swear you got laid last night. But there is a spot right there that looks as if it's detached itself." She pointed at the empty wall. "I've never seen anything like it."

I blushed at her insinuation that I had slept with someone. I wasn't about to tell her that it was two nights ago, and it was just myself, with a one-hundred-year-old ghost for inspiration. Honestly, I did still feel some of the afterglow. It was that good.

Alice shook her head again. "Maybe the stress of the other night has finally pushed me off the deep end," she joked.

"I know what you mean. I swore this morning that I left the bathroom light on each time I left the room, but when I went back, twice, it had been turned out. I've concluded that my subconscious won't let me waste electricity.

"Hm…," was all she said.

We had finished our meal, and I was about to get up with the check when Alice reached out to catch my arm. "Wait, Bella. There's one more thing I wanted to ask you about," she said.

I paused on the edge of my seat. "What?" I asked.

"Anthony?" she asked reluctantly.

I settled back in the seat letting my head fall back on the booth behind me. I was still really embarrassed about finding myself dancing with him the other night. I really didn't want to talk about it.

"Look, Alice," I began, but she cut me off.

"Bella, you've been so supportive of my relationship with Jasper, so I feel really bad discouraging you, but I'm not sure he's someone you want to be involved with," she said.

I shook my head.

"I'm not involved with him, and I have no intention of ever getting involved with him. I had way too much to drink the other night, and when he came up behind me, I thought he was someone else. I haven't even seen him since then," I explained.

"So he is not the source of the glowing aura?"

"Definitely not. I just hope he comes back to finish my roof before it rains."

"Oh my god, I forgot about the hole we left in your roof!" Alice cracked up with laughter. "So much has happened since then, that it completely slipped my mind. Well, I suppose Anthony is good for something. If you need any help setting him straight though, just give me a call. I'd be happy to tell him where to stick those wandering hands of his," she said with a smirk.

"I just might take you up on that offer," I said, finally sliding out of the seat.

She followed me up to the cash register, were we divided up the bill.

As we were about to part ways for the rest of the day, she pulled me into a huge hug.

"Thanks so much for just being here, and being Jasper's sister, and, well, just for being you," she said.

We made arrangements to get together again later in the week and said goodbye. Alice went back to work, and I went home to continue reading the diary. I knew I needed to tell her about it soon, but I couldn't let it go until I finished it. I wanted desperately to learn everything I could about Edward Masen, and I knew that it still held answers for me.

* * *

**EPOV**

_Another day gone, and my angel and I had each put together a few more pieces of our puzzle. I was as shocked as Isabella was to discover that Alice was my niece. I knew there must be some connection to the family when she said that Anthony was her cousin, but I had no idea that the link was through my sister, Rosalie. Alice looked nothing like Rose, but they had the same spirit and determination that I should have seen the similarity. Alice was still not a complete picture, though. There was more to her than was obvious. Maybe Isabella had those pieces, or more likely, Jasper._

_I could tell that Isabella picked up on the clues as quickly as I did. My girl was smart. The problem was that each of us held some critical pieces. We needed to find a way to communicate, to share them. Without that, neither of us would ever be able to see the full picture._

_As night fell, my angel descended into a peaceful sleep, and I was left to ponder what I had learned that day. Night had been the loneliest time when I was in France. I had few memories of that time, but slowly they were coming back. I remembered hunkering down, alone in the cold, wet trenches, wishing I had never left my home; wishing I had someone like Isabella waiting for me._

_I couldn't help but wonder if I would have lived, had I stayed. Maybe I would have been strong enough to resist the disease that eventually took my life. I could have gotten married, raised a family, and lived a long and full life working in Father's factory. Or maybe not. Maybe I would have died anyway._

_So here I waited, lonely but not quite alone. With each passing day I continued to grow stronger. I didn't know how or why, only that the woman resting upstairs was the source of my strength. I now had the power to influence her world, in small ways at least, but what to do with it?_

_This business of being a ghost was harder than one would think. Dickens made it look so easy. All the ghost of Jacob Marley had to do was to ring some bells and rattle some chains to get the attention of Ebenezer Scrooge. Of course, as much as I wanted to alert Isabella to my presence, the last thing I wanted to do was to terrify her out of her wits._

_How could I contact her? I thought about writing a letter; a love letter from beyond the grave. That would be something. I knew of women who had received them during the war. I used to imagine them being told of the death of their lovers, mourning them, only to find a last letter, delivered weeks or even months later. I wondered if that letter would bring comfort, or merely open a wound that had barely begun to heal. A part of me, sad and twisted by the horror and loneliness of war, hoped it was the latter. None of us wanted to be forgotten as our families went about their lives without us._

_I pushed thoughts of my life as a soldier out of my mind. It was a waste of energy. Instead I focused on the object in front of me, the piano. I longed to play it the minute it was unloaded from the truck. Our old piano had been one of my best friends when I was young. To be this close, but unable to play, was torture._

_Still I hesitated. I had no idea if I could still play. What if I couldn't produce the force necessary to strike the keys, or was too uncoordinated to produce a pleasing melody?_

_Tentatively, I struck a key. Middle-C sounded softly through the night air like the voice of an old friend. Encouraged by this small victory, I tried again. I played a chord this time, C-major. I was trying for a moderate volume, but I struck too hard, and too awkwardly. The discordant tone clanged harshly through the quiet house._

_If I had a body, it would have startled me. I let off the keys quickly, and the cacophony ceased almost as quickly as it began. Silence hung over the house once again. I listened carefully for any sign that Isabella had heard the noise. I dreamed of being able to play for her, but not like this. I didn't want to scare her._

_I waited anxiously for a few moments, but Isabella didn't stir. She slept on with the peace of an angel._

_Carefully I tried the cord again, focusing on just the three keys I needed. I imagined them dropping silently but firmly, the hammers striking the strings with just the right force._

_The corded sounded perfectly._

_Another! G-major._

_Another!_

_Before long, I found myself playing scales up and down the rows of keys, practicing the exercises I had been given when I first learned to play, until I knew I was ready._

_I sat silently for a moment. The night was calling to me, begging for a piece of music that had always been one of my favorites, Chopin's Nocturne in E-flat major._

_I began playing the relatively simple piece with as much concentration as I had ever given a song before in my life. I had been quite adept at playing, and by the time I was in my teens, the notes just seemed to flow from my fingertips. It had taken years of practice to get to that point, but I had nothing now, while my angel slept, if not time._

_I completed the first round of the melody with a soothing tone and few errors. The second time through, I was beginning to feel the music flow again, and my mind began to wander to other things as it always had._

_Isabella._

_She was a mystery. I knew so much, yet so little about her. I knew she had a family, yet she seemed to have little contact with them. Jasper was the only one. Otherwise, she seemed to be alone in the world. It made me glad she had Alice in her life._

_Alice was an enigma in her own right. I knew there was something I liked about her the first time I saw her. You could almost feel the spirit bubbling out of her. So much like Rosalie._

_It still didn't explain why either one of them seemed to be alone in this town. There was more to both of their stories._

_I had seen the ring Isabella kept upstairs, as well as the diamond still hanging in the window of the room. There was one point in the evening where the sun would shine just right casting rainbows on everything in its path. She always smiled when she gave it a spin each morning. It clearly brought good memories._

_The wedding band was a different story. The few times she took it out she just stared at it with the bleakest expression on her face. She never made any move to put it on. She only held it between her fingers for a moment and put it back in the box. Then, with a shake of her head, as if to cast aside her dark thoughts she would move on._

_Had she been married? She didn't seem to be now. Had she lost her love in some tragic way?_

_And where had she come across this piano? I could tell by the wear on the keys that it was old. It was probably made when I was a boy. She couldn't play. Why did she have it?_

_As the nocturne gradually increased in pace and volume culminating in a crescendo, I contemplated the strangest piece of the puzzle, the diary. It was the one thing that seemed to tie the whole picture together. Where did Bella get it, and why didn't she tell Alice about it? What did it say about my death, and Rosalie's life? I just wanted to know that in the midst of all these lonely souls, one of us could find happiness._

_I played the trill, which lead into the finale, draining the last bit of tension from the piece. If only I could find a similar release to the tension in my soul._

* * *

**Author's Note:**

First of all, I must apologize to my loyal readers who have been waiting two months for this chapter. Real life leaves me little time to write, and it promises to get even more hectic over the next few months. On the bright side, the chapters should become shorter once I finish with the diary entries in a few more chapters.

I will finish this story. If you get impatient and want to know how the next chapter is coming, just drop me a line through my account, or find me on twitter: MyWhitePen.

I admit that I've been distracted in July, writing an entry for the Wanna Be a Hard Core Nerdward Contest called 'For Your Eyes Only'. You can find a link to it on my profile. It was sitting there half written, and when I saw the contest, I knew I had to finish it.

I have a few other story ideas, but I'm going to try to focus on Lost Soul for now. Though, maybe when the main story is all done, I'll write an outtake of Alice & Jasper's night together. Anyone interested?

Fic Recs: Eddie and the Cruisers by Holly1980. This one is short & sweet, and I absolutely fell in love with it. You've got to read it. I've also been loving How to Fix a Pretty Boy by XquisiteProdigy – Pretty Boy Edward is HOT!

Thanks to everyone for sticking with me. I can't wait to get into the next few chapters. They are some of my favorites, particularly 11 & 12. I'll get right to work.

Reviews are a great motivator. If there are any particular questions you want answered, just drop me a line. If I can't answer them right away, I'll cover them in the story when the time is right.


	10. Chapter 10: Orientation

Disclaimer: Twilight is owned by Stephenie Meyer. I am only borrowing a few of her characters. The remainder of the story is my own. No reproduction is permitted without my written consent.

* * *

**Diary of Rosalie Masen**

September 7, 1917

I don't know who told him, but somehow Father found out about the suffrage parade. He was furious. I'd swear that it was Royce, but I think he's too afraid of Emmett to say anything.

'Rosalie Masen!' he screamed as he walked in the door. I knew immediately that he knew.

I could see his fingers itching to take me over his knee, but thank goodness he refrained. Instead, he proceeded to scream at me as if I was one of his factory bosses who missed the day's production quota. He bellowed loudly about how I had shamed the Masen name, and how he could no longer show his face at work without his workers laughing behind his back.

He then laid down a long list of restrictions that roughly means that I can only leave the house to go to school or on an errand accompanied by my mother.

I keep telling myself that it was worth the punishment, but really, what is the point of having the right to vote if you don't have the freedom to go to the polls? I guess I've got neither at this point so it's irrelevant.

September 23, 1917

Emmett was at the house today. We had a whole two minutes to talk before someone interrupted and he had to hurry on to Father's study. He was as handsome as ever.

September 27, 1917

I received a letter from Edward today. He has been busy with rifle training all week. It breaks my heart to think of my sweet, fun loving brother learning how to shoot a weapon with the intent to kill someone.

I almost wrote to him and told him what happened after the parade, but I didn't want to worry him. He wouldn't like the fact that Royce cornered me again, or that I have fallen in love with Emmett. Instead I wrote a fluffy note about the parade and complained about Father's reaction.

He sympathized, but insisted that I wasn't telling him everything. If he ever gets back safe and sound, I swear I will tell him the whole story.

October 21, 1917

Alice Paul was arrested yesterday. It was in Father's newspaper this morning. He still doesn't know that I read his paper every day. If he did he would never leave it at home. I feel a certain kinship with Alice. We are both locked up for marching for a cause we believe in. I know she has it much worse than I do, locked away in the Occoquan Workhouse. I wish there was something I could do for her.

October 28, 1917

Saw Emmett in town today. He pretended to ignore me, but his hand brushed mine as we passed on the street. It felt like a jolt of electricity going through my arm. I live for these little moments.

November 6, 1917

The vote is today. I'm so nervous. Will our hard work pay off? Will the men of our fair state grant women the right to vote?

November 7, 1917

We won! It was on the front page of the newspaper! Father was so angry that he threw the paper down in disgust and stormed out. The ladies at the NWP office must be celebrating. I wish I could be with them, but there is no way Father will let me out of the house today. That's okay because I don't care. We won!

It amazes me that by this time next year I will be voting in my first general election. Father will never keep me from voting! I wonder what Emmett would say to that?

November 8, 1917

Alice Paul has now begun a hunger strike, and Edward ships out for France next week. I thought that things were looking up. I told myself the war would be over before Edward got anywhere near it, that he couldn't possibly be of any use after a mere three months of training but apparently I was wrong. I also thought that now that New York had seen the light and granted women the right to vote, the rest of the country would fall in line. It seems that it's only made our opponents want to fight more desperately.

Two people I think the world of have set aside their own self-interest and face unknown horrors for a cause they believe in; Alice, in allowing herself to be subjected to the indignity of being force-fed three times a day, and Edward, risking his life in the 'War to End All Wars'. I wish I had their courage.

I feel so useless locked away in this house!

December 12, 1917

Received word from Edward today. He made it safely across the ocean, if not in the greatest of health. Apparently he was seasick for most of the voyage. He complained about it bitterly in his short note, so much that it made me want to laugh. I had dreamed of him being killed by a U-boat for weeks. A little sea-sickness seems comical in comparison.

It doesn't sound like he'll see the front anytime soon, and for that I am exceedingly grateful. They are heading off to training but he can't even tell me where he is. His letter was signed Edward Cullen, Somewhere in France.

We've all been busy about the house getting ready for Father's annual Christmas party. This year, I am expected to attend. Other years, I've sat longingly in my room under the watchful eye of a nanny, wishing I could be downstairs dancing and eating to my heart's content. This year I'm dreading it. Father has ordered Mother to have a new dress made for me. I think he intends to put me on display with the hope that I will catch a husband. There is only one man I want to think about, but I'm sure he is not the one my father has in mind.

December 23, 1917

I had been dreading this night for weeks because I knew my father would invite Milton King and his vile son, Royce, to the party. For the past year, Milton has figured prominently in my father's circle of acquaintances. I never liked him, but it was only last month that I realized he is the father of the bane of my existence.

Mother tried to get me excited about it, even ordering me a new dress for the occasion (which I have to admit is absolutely divine), but I just didn't see the point of prancing around with my father's acquaintances when I had nothing in common with them.

That was until I saw the guest list and realized that Father's foremen were invited. One name in particular jumped off the page at me. Emmett would be here. My enthusiasm was immeasurable from that moment onward. I think Mother suspected something, but she didn't say anything.

My nerves grew a thousand-fold as I waited patiently with my parents to greet the guests at the door. Everyone asked after Edward. Father, who is still unhappy over his disobedient enlistment, brushed them off. It nearly broke my heart to see him act that way, but Mother reassured everyone that we recently received word that he had arrived safely in France. They meant well, but each inquiry was like a little thorn in my heart. I miss him so much.

The house filled quickly with people, and the hum of social chatter filled the air. As each person passed over the threshold, I told myself that Emmett would be next, but as the crowd grew larger and the din grew higher I started to worry. Finally, just as I was about to give up hope, there he was. He was so handsome in his shabby dress suit. He greeted me with just a 'Miss Masen' and a kiss to my hand. Still, it was enough to make me blush. Unfortunately my father chose that moment to interrupt.

"Rosalie, come here. There is someone I want you to meet."

Reluctantly, I let go of Emmett's hand and went to see what Father wanted. I almost stumbled over the heel of my shoe when I saw who he was standing with. Royce King looked like a pompous ass as he stood there laughing with his father. I felt myself shudder slightly at the sight of him. He recognized my reaction for what it was, and smiled cruelly at the thought of making me uncomfortable.

He greeted me the same way Emmett had, with a kiss to the hand, but his hand was cold as ice. He held tightly to my hand, resisting my effort to pull it away.

"I trust you will save a dance for me this evening?" he asked.

I was speechless, trying to find a way to avoid it in any way I could, but Father wouldn't let me get away with it. "Of course she will!" his booming voice rang out over the noise of the party. He shot me a look warning me not to argue.

I hastily mumbled my acquiescence. That was enough to satisfy Father, and I was able to slip away as the conversation turned to factory business.

When I turned around Emmett was nowhere to be found. I searched through the guests, and finally came across him in the library with a group of Father's factory bosses, but as I approached the group he turned and walked away. Twice more I tried to engage him in conversation, but each time I got near him he would either turn his back to me, or leave the room completely.

I had no trouble finding Royce. It seemed like wherever I went, he was just a few steps away. He didn't say a word, but I could feel his eyes following me everywhere.

I finally gave up out of frustration, and fell into a long and boring conversation with old Mrs. Cope on the success of the last Red Cross fundraiser. This was not how I envisioned the night at all. My mood was getting fouler by the minute, and when she made a comment about how terrible it was that the suffrage movement was distracting attention from the war effort, I almost snapped at her.

Unfortunately, just as I was about to pour forth a much practiced (at least in my mind) speech on the virtues of suffrage, Father pulled me up by the elbow and insisted I make good on my promise to dance with Royce. I would much rather have made a scene by lecturing a crotchety old woman, but the look in his eye told me that there would be no backing down. I grudgingly agreed, and stood up just as a Foxtrot was beginning.

Mother's parlor is a large room, but completely inadequate for any type of dancing. Still she insisted that it wouldn't be a party without it. She had several of Father's workmen remove the furniture earlier in the day. In one corner three musicians sat tightly together where they played the latest dances from New York City as several couples spun merrily around the small space.

Royce wasted no time in putting his hands on me. The fingers of his right hand dug into my waist, holding me closer than was decent. His other hand held mine in a slimy grip of iron. It was impossible to hide my irritation.

"I knew I'd have you in my arms before the night was over," Royce whispered in my ear as he led me through the first steps of the dance.

"You know very well that the only reason I'm here is because my father insisted," I grumbled back.

I refused to look him in the eye, instead keeping my gaze focused in the distance over his right shoulder.

"An effective tactic. I'll have to remember it in the future," he quipped brightly.

I ignored him. He continued to make small talk, but I couldn't exchange pleasantries with such a man.

As we moved around the room, my eyes fell on Emmett watching us from the doorway. He stood calmly, leaning against the door post, but his knuckles were white around the drink in his hand.

Royce, feeling me stiffen, followed my eyes. A sadistic smile spread across his face.

"I see your protector is back."

"I don't need Emmett to protect me," I spat.

Royce chuckled in amusement. "Of course not. There's nothing to protect you from here tonight under Daddy's watchful eye."

I didn't answer, so Royce probed further.

"I wonder what he will do when you are married off, with a husband to see to you? Will he still follow you around like a protective dog, barking at any hand that touches you? I don't think your husband would like that very much. I know I wouldn't."

"The cares of my future husband are no concern of yours, Royce King," I whispered harshly.

"Don't be so sure about that," he replied. "Your antics at the parade have convinced your father that you are in need of someone with a firm hand to control you. Specifically, a husband from a good family. I hear wedding bells in your future, Rosalie, as soon as your eighteenth birthday."

His words chilled me. Could my father really be planning to marry me off? It was just the sort of thing he would do. Suddenly it dawned on me just what Royce was alluding to. He was the one Father had in mind for me.

I gasped and tried to pull away, but Royce pulled me tighter in his iron grip. "Now don't be like that, my dear. We wouldn't want to cause a scene at Daddy's party."

Emmett saw my distress and took a step in my direction. I shook my head, warning him to stay away. He hesitated, then settled reluctantly back into his watchful post in the doorway.

I turned back to Royce and whispered fiercely, "You are deluding yourself if you think you will ever be in that position. I'd starve myself to death before I would ever marry you!"

Royce chuckled heartily. Everything I said seemed to amuse him, and this was no exception. "Now, we couldn't have that, could we? Don't worry, my little suffragette, you'll soon lose those foolish notions."

Before I could respond the dance ended. Again, Royce resisted my attempt to pull away, but this time Emmett was standing next to me giving him a deadly glare. "I believe you've had this lovely girl to yourself for too long. Mind if I cut in?"

Emmett pulled me firmly to his side. To my surprise, Royce acted like the perfect gentleman that I knew he wasn't, and released me.

"She is difficult to let go of, but I think Miss Rosalie has spent enough time in my arms for now. Have fun while you can, McCarty." With that, he turned and left us.

Emmett wasted no time in pulling me into his arms for the next dance. His embrace was warm and firm, and caring, everything Royce's was not.

"What was all that about?" he asked. I could still see the jealousy in his eyes.

"Father insisted that I dance with him. Besides, it's not like anyone else asked me to dance, or was willing to give me the time of day."

I was irritated with him and he could tell.

"Rosie, you know we have to be careful. I'm just a front line foreman. Your father wouldn't like it if he knew I was sweet on you." Emmett's posture reflected his concern. He held me rigidly away from his body. Where I couldn't get far enough away from Royce, now I couldn't get close enough to Emmett, but even though there were several inches between us, his words melted my heart.

"Oh, Emmett. I hate this sneaking around. Seeing you here tonight from a distance, well we may as well be at two different parties. It would be easier."

"Rosie, don't talk like that. Just be patient with me. Give it time."

"Time? How much time do we need? Royce…"

"What did that son of a…, did he say something to you?"

"No… yes…," I shook my head, flustered. "This isn't the place to discuss it."

"Rosie, if he threatened you, I want to know about it."

"It wasn't a threat really, but please, not here. Meet me outside later. There is a little alcove in Mother's garden on the south side of the house. I think I can slip out for a few minutes."

"Okay, but for now let's just enjoy this dance while we can."

The dance ended all too soon, and Emmett released me from his arms, thanking me politely, before he disappeared into the crowd of guests.

We kept our distance for the rest of the evening until I saw him shaking my father's hand before walking to the door. He turned and met my eyes for just a moment before he left.

I gave him a minute before I disengaged myself from another of Mother's friends, and walked up the front staircase to my room. There I grabbed a shawl and snuck back down the back stairs and out the kitchen door.

I shivered in the cold. The ground was frozen solid, but fortunately the snow was late this year. We wouldn't leave any footprints to arouse suspicion.

Emmett was waiting for me right where I told him. As I stepped around the corner, he wrapped his arms around me and pulled me tightly to him.

In that moment, I was home. The cold, the worry, the fear all left me. It was just the two of us alone in the world underneath the deep, starry sky.

Just as I thought I couldn't be any more content, his lips found mine. He lingered there for just a moment. My heart stopped in anticipation, of what I didn't know. Then, lips began to move on mine. They were soft flutters at first, but then, I felt his tongue trace my bottom lip. Tentatively, I parted my lips and responded in kind. I had never kissed like this before, and I was unsure of myself, but I trusted Emmett.

The physical connection was unlike anything I ever imagined. My heart pounded back to life. Now that I had a taste of him I needed more. I pressed myself to him shamelessly.

My response aroused a passion within him that I had never experienced before. One hand slid up behind my head, tangling in my curls as he kissed me, while the other held me molded tightly to his body.

And the kiss, I thought he would devour me if he could. I pulled away gasping for breath, but this didn't deter him. He placed hungry wet kisses across my jaw and down my neck.

"Oh god, Rosie. Since the moment I walked in the door, I've wanted to do this," he mumbled between kisses. "I wanted to pull you to me in front of all those people and make them see that you are mine."

His words sent a thrill through me. I had known for months that I was his, but somehow, I still doubted that he understood. Now I knew that he could feel it too.

"Then why didn't you?" I asked breathlessly. "I waited for you all night."

He seemed to sober up at my question, letting my acknowledgement of reality interrupt the dreamworld we found ourselves in for a moment.

"You know why. Your father wouldn't allow it. I'm the lowest foreman on the totem pole. I get the best production numbers of anyone, yet that sleazy bastard, Royce, can do no wrong."

He looked down at me with a question in his eyes.

"I assume you weren't exactly dancing with him because you liked his company."

I shuddered involuntarily at the memory.

"If I could follow my will, Royce and I would never be in the same room again as long as I live. Father didn't give me a choice."

"You have no idea how hard it was to see you in his arms. I wanted to march in there, tear you away from him, and hit him so hard that smirk would be forever gone from his face. If he had made one wrong move, I would have."

"You'd have been fired on the spot, and what little contact we've had in the past four months would be completely cut off."

He sighed and held me tighter. It was only the warmth of his arms that kept despair from completely setting in.

"Emmett, what's going to happen to us? What are we even? You come to the house, tip your hat, leave a polite compliment, and maybe steal a kiss. Is this all we'll ever have?"

"Rosie," he said, cupping my face in his hands, "you've got to know how I feel about you. You're it for me. I love you."

Even in the dim light, I'm sure he could see the glow from the smile that spread across my face, because it was reflected in his own. I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed him again joyfully.

"I love you too, Emmett, and I never want to be apart from you again."

"Be patient with me, Rosie. If we can't get your father to come around, then I will need to find another job. It may take me a year or two to get set up properly."

A year or two? I didn't have that long.

Emmett could see the panic set in.

"Don't worry, Rosie, it won't be that bad. We've lasted this long."

"No, you don't understand. I don't have that long. Royce…" I hesitated to tell him what Royce had hinted at.

"Did that bastard say something to offend you? Because if he did, I swear I'll…" I cut him off.

"Royce isn't the problem, at least not directly. He just hinted that my father is fed up with my wild suffragette ways, and has decided that a husband is the best solution to keep me under control. It seems that as soon as I turn eighteen, I'm to be married off, and you can guess who my father's first choice will be."

"Royce," he said with disgust.

I lay my head on his shoulder, just reveling in the stolen moment.

"Father is blind. Maybe once he sees us together he'll come around."

Emmett shook his head. "It doesn't work like that, Rose. Your father is stubborn. It isn't a good idea unless he came up with it, or at least he thinks he did. Royce must have planted the idea somehow. I just don't have the same influence."

"I'll never marry him!" I cried fiercely as I clung to Emmett. "He could dress me up and march me to the altar, but I'll never say those vows. Not to him!"

"I was kinda hoping you'd say them to me," he whispered so quietly, I almost didn't hear him.

"What?" I asked stupidly, looking up at him.

He wouldn't look me in the eye. Instead, he knelt down on the cold, hard ground and took my hand, caressing it gently.

My heart thundered.

"Rosie," he started shyly, "Ever since the moment I met you at that dance last summer I haven't been able to get you out of my mind. Every ounce of common sense tells me that we're impossible, that I'm not good enough for you. But my heart insists that you're the one, the only one for me.

"I know that we haven't had much chance to really get to know each other, with all this sneaking around just to steal a kiss here and there, but something in my heart tells me that this is right."

He finally looked up to my eyes. "Rosie, will you marry me?"

My heart pounded, and my body flamed with heat, the cold night air completely forgotten. I had always dreamed of this moment, and now, my feelings surpassed anything I had imagined.

"Y-yes," I stammered out. There wasn't time to say anything else before Emmett had me in his arms and swung me around in a circle.

"Rosie, you've made me the happiest man alive."

He set me down again and took my hands. "I'm sorry I don't even have a proper ring for you."

"I don't need a ring. I only need your promise," I said happily.

We talked and kissed and planned, and kissed. I'm really starting to like the kissing. Fine, I've been a fool for it since the first one. But in spite of all the hurdles we face I know Emmett will make everything all right.

* * *

**BPOV**

"Just hold it together, Bella. You'll be fine." I was talking to myself again, but in fairness this is what Edward would have said had he been here.

"Crap!" I dropped my earring down the drain. They were sterling silver with a blue teardrop sapphire that matched perfectly the blue dress I had chosen to wear to teacher orientation today. This was my favorite pair of earrings because they had once been my mother's. I had lost her at a very young age. When I turned sixteen, my father had given them to me, and now besides a few old pictures they were the only thing of my mother's that I had.

For a second I thought I could get it, but my fingertips only succeeded in pushing it further down. Anthony had just finished putting the sink back together. I would have to ask him to pull it apart again.

I hoped my bad luck wasn't an omen for the day to come. Today I was officially starting my career as a second grade teacher. The principle had sent me a packet of information, along with a flyer requesting my presence at a teacher orientation session this afternoon.

I picked up my remaining earring, and put it back in the jewelry box, selecting instead a pair of plain gold hoops. Earrings in place, I took in my reflection in the mirror. I tried to smile, but it just looked fake to me. I was sure everyone would see how nervous I was. I smoothed my dress out and pushed my long brown hair behind my ear.

"The kids won't care how you look," I told myself. "The only thing that matters to them is that you are a caring, patient, and kind teacher, who knows how to make learning fun." Hearing it out loud made it slightly more believable.

I took one last look around the room to see if anything was out of place. Sure enough, Edward's picture was lying on my pillow. It must have slipped out of the diary that I had been reading earlier this morning. It seemed secure in the back, but somehow, it never stayed put. I wondered if I didn't take it out subconsciously because I liked to look at it so much.

"Wish me luck," I said to my green-eyed soldier before I tucked him back inside the flap.

I gathered my things and opened the front door. There on the ground was another daisy. I put it in the kitchen with the others. It seemed I had an admirer, but I couldn't think who it would be. Anthony maybe? No, he was bound to be more direct than that. I decided that it would have to remain a mystery until someone decided to come clean.

I walked out the front door to my truck. To my surprise, the ladder was leaning against the house. Sure enough, Anthony's truck was parked next to mine. I was about to walk over to see if he was in the garage when the pounding of a hammer told me he had already climbed up to the roof.

The noise stopped for a moment, so I yelled up to him, "Anthony?"

"Fuck," he yelled.

I could hear something skidding along the shingles of the roof, but before I could move a hammer slid off the roof heading straight for my forehead. I ducked, certain it was going to hit me, but it landed on the ground next to me with a soft thud.

I was crouched down with my hands over my head waiting for something else to fall when I felt a hand on my shoulder.

"Shit, B, are you okay?" Anthony asked. I had no idea how he managed to get off the roof so fast.

I carefully stood up and looked up just to make sure nothing else was going to fall on me, before I turned to Anthony. The adrenaline was still pumping through my bloodstream, and now that I knew I was safe, my body channeled it into anger.

"What the heck do you think you're doing!" I yelled. "You could have killed me!"

"Fuck, B, I'm sorry. I wasn't aiming for you. I heard you yell right as I was going to hit a nail, and hit my finger instead."

For all his bravado, he looked downright contrite. My anger melted instantly.

"It's okay. I'm fine. I'm sorry for yelling, but you scared me. I thought for sure I was about to see stars."

He laughed. "Honestly, B, I didn't think you had it in you." It was nice to see Anthony, who always seemed so angry with the world, have some fun. A moment was all it lasted, because a second later, his eyes swept my body, nodding his head in appreciation. I blushed and took a step back from him as memories from my night of alcohol and dancing flashed back through my mind.

"W-well, I have to go. Can't be late for school." I tried to joke but it fell flat.

He caught my arm as I turned away, pulling me back. "Wait, B, before you go, I just wanted to say that I shouldn't have come on to you the other night like I did. I'm here to do a job, and it was inappropriate. I don't want you to worry that I'm gonna try to make a move or something here in your own house. I mean, it's not that you're not hot, or anything." His eyes swept the length of my body once again. "It's just that I need this job," he continued earnestly, "and I can't screw it up by thinking with my dick."

I have to admit, I was both relieved and disappointed at his words. Relieved because I was not ready for a relationship, and I was sure that Anthony was not the kind of guy that could make me happy. The disappointment was harder to dissect. Part of it was that it felt good to be wanted, or at least appreciated by someone of the opposite sex.

I looked up into Anthony's brown eyes. He was so handsome in a rough and tumble kind of way, but kissing him would be like kissing a cardboard cutout of the green-eyed man that I really wanted. I would be using him. We were both better off keeping our distance.

"It's okay, Anthony. I was there of my own free will that night, but I'm not ready yet to get involved with anyone. Friends?"

"A friend I can use." He held up his fist as if he were going to punch me, and rolled his eyes when I flinched back. "Fist bump, B," he said, pulling up my wrist until my fist met his. "Where they kept you locked away for the past five years, I don't know."

"It's a long story," I answered sadly, "but I do need to get going. We have school orientation today."

"Okay, but we should talk later. I need you to decide on some tiles for the bathroom. I have a catalog in the truck."

"Oh, that reminds me. I dropped an earring down the drain. Would it be possible for you to see if you can get it out?" I used my meekest expression.

"Shit, B, I just got that thing put back together!" he protested.

I added puppy dog eyes. "Please, it was my mother's."

Anthony rolled his eyes at my insistence. "Yeah, I'll look for it."

"Thank you so much. It's a small blue sapphire earring."

"Don't worry. If it's in there I'll get it out," he said as he climbed back up the ladder, hammer in hand.

I waved goodbye. At least the encounter with Anthony took my mind off my nervousness for a while. When I reached the school, it came flooding back.

I climbed out of the truck and tugged on my dress again. Closing my eyes for one final moment, I told myself, "I can do this. I've worked towards this for four years."

Just inside the door was a table with two big boxes of manila envelopes. A plump woman who looked to be in her early fifties shuffled through the box before pulling one and handing it to the man in front of me.

"Thank you, Shelly," he said.

"See you in September, Mike," she replied with a wink.

As he stepped aside, she looked up to see who was next in line. Her expression changed from confusion to recognition to one of nervous anticipation.

"Hi, I'm Isabella Swan. I'm the new second grade teacher!" My voice was filled with a level of enthusiasm that surprised even me.

"Yes, Ms. Swan. I'm Shelly Cope, Mr. Banner's secretary. I have your packet right here." She smiled politely and pulled out an envelope with 'Ms. Swan – Grade 7' printed neatly in the corner.

It took a minute for the words to sink in. "Wait a minute, Mrs. Cope," I said as she flipped through the box looking for her next envelope. "I'm supposed to be teaching second grade."

"Oh, yes," she said, somewhat embarrassed. "You will need to talk to Principle Banner about that. He makes the assignments. I just hand them out."

This couldn't be right. My degree was in Elementary Education. I wanted to work with young, excited, impressionable children, not know-it-all pre-teens on the verge of puberty and all the difficulties it brings with it. I barely survived that time myself. I wasn't sure I could handle students in that stage of life.

I thanked Shelly and wandered into the crowd of strange faces to search for Principle Banner. I had met him only once before at my job interview. Luckily he stood out in a crowd. He was tall and thin with a red bow tie that looked like it was about to cut off his circulation to his head. He gave a huge smile when he saw me, as if I was a long lost friend.

"Why, Miss Swan, I'm so delighted to see you again. I can't tell you how happy we are to have you teaching seventh grade," he said, extending his hand.

"Mr. Banner, there must be some mistake. I thought I was going to teach second grade. My certification is in elementary education, and I really think…" I tried to explain, but he cut me off quickly.

"I know and I'm sorry about that. It was a last minute change. Heidi, I mean Mrs. Stevens, decided that she wanted a younger class this year. With her greater seniority we had to change the assignments around. You know how it is," he said condescendingly.

I really didn't know, and I didn't like it one bit. Just as I opened my mouth to protest, he said, "I'm sure it will all work out, Miss Swan, but we don't have time to discuss it now. Please find a seat in the auditorium for the meeting."

Sure enough, the others were now being herded through the doors at the end of the hall by Mrs. Cope. I found a seat in an empty row near the back, but just as the lights dimmed and Principal Banner took the stage, a man sat down in the seat next to me.

Banner started in with what was supposed to be a motivational speech to get us fired up for the school year, complete with a 'Go Wildcats' at the end, but the only one to respond was a skinny woman with bleach blond hair in the front row. The man sitting next to me made no attempt to cheer but he could hardly contain his amusement at the Principal's laughable display.

Banner flashed the crowd a look of irritation, but thankfully, he gave up his cheerleading attempt. Instead he launched into a detailed review of the school handbook, and each of the many changes that had taken place over the past year.

My companion leaned over and whispered loudly to me, "Sorry about that, but it's as if they aren't even trying to hide it anymore."

"Hide what?" I whispered back more quietly.

"You haven't heard? Banner and Stevens are doing the horizontal mambo, if you get my drift."

"Is that like a dance competition?"

He looked at me as if I was crazy.

"Banner wanted to dispense a little vitamin F, and Heidi was in need of an injection." It slowly started to sink into my sheltered brain, but my lack of response prompted him to continue. "The hot beef injection! Doing the nasty! They're sleeping together!" he said, frustrated at my cluelessness.

Finally I regained the power of speech. "Isn't that against school rules?"

"Banner makes the rules. You know that."

"I don't, actually. I'm new here."

"Oh, sorry, I thought you were someone else in the dark," he said sheepishly. "Welcome to John F. Kennedy High School, home of the Wildcats." He made cat claws with his fingers as he said it.

"Thanks. I'm Bella Swan." He took my offered hand and shook it quickly.

"Mike Newton. Listen, you won't say anything to Banner about the…"

"The horizontal mambo? No. I won't say anything. Principle Banner isn't high on my list of favorite people at the moment," I said with exasperation.

"Really? What did he do to piss you off this fast?" he asked.

"My job offer said I would be teaching second grade. I just found out that I will be teaching seventh instead."

"Ah, so you are Angela's backfill, but then Heidi swooped in and took the much coveted position with the little kids."

"Heidi, as in Mrs. Heidi Stevens, as in…"

"Banner's bimbo," he finished for me. "I'd tell you to go to the superintendent, but he is John Stevens, Heidi's husband. She's got him wrapped around her little finger, and now, so does Banner. In fact, he fired the only person who was brave enough to tell him that Banner and his wife were screwing around. Stupid bastard is blind when it comes to Heidi. I hate to say it, but I think you're stuck with seventh grade."

I knew something else would go terribly wrong today. I had lost my coveted position as a second grade teacher because the principle's mistress wanted it instead.

I sighed. "I suppose I should be grateful to have a job." It was just a setback. I would somehow make do.

I listened impatiently to the rest of the meeting. Finally, Banner ran out of rules, policies, and schedules to review and the faculty adjourned to the cafeteria for cookies and punch.

Once the lights came on, I was able to assess my companion. Mike was about average height with brown eyes, sandy brown hair, and a black tie covered with yellow smiley faces.

When we reached the cafeteria, he quickly grabbed two cups of punch and handed one to me. "Here you go. Sorry it's not spiked. You could probably use a drink after your surprise today."

"What surprise?" Another teacher had walked up next to us, his own hands full of cookies and punch.

Mike gave him an irritated look, but introduced us anyway. "Bella Swan, this is Eric Yorkie. Eric teaches basic computers. Bella was supposed to be the new second grade teacher, but now it looks like she will be in seventh," he said with emphasis on the word seventh.

"But I thought Heidi…" As his eyes widened in recognition, I looked down in embarrassment. Yes, the principal's floozy has taken my job, the dream job that has just slipped through my fingers.

"Hey, don't let it get to you," Mike said, patting my back. "I'll tell you what. The three of us usually get together for dinner on Wednesday nights. Why don't you join us tomorrow? We can all get to know each other better."

"I don't know." I was about to respectfully decline, but someone bumped my elbow and my drink splashed all over Mike's white shirt and smiley face tie. The drips of red made the smileys turn sinister.

"Oh, I'm so sorry!" I set my now empty cup down on a nearby table and pulled some tissues from my purse. "Someone bumped my elbow. I didn't mean to spill," I sputtered as I dabbed at the red stain. "I'll buy you a new tie."

"Don't worry about him, Bella," Eric said, taking the tissue from my hand. "He's got a hundred of them. He didn't even bother to wear one of his favorites tonight. We must not rate very high on his list."

Mike snatched the tissue from Eric. "Had I known I would be meeting the lovely Bella Swan, I would have worn an Armani."

"Yeah, I would hate to have seen the Three Stooges covered in punch," Eric teased.

Mike shot him another nasty look, but otherwise ignored him. "Bella, now you've got to come to dinner with us. I won't take no for an answer."

I really felt like I owed it to him. I did spill punch all over him after all. Without taking the time to think it through any further, I said tentatively, "I guess that would be all right." I mean how bad could it be?

"Great. I'll pick you up at six." A huge grin spread over Mike's face as Eric looked on jealously. "Hey, where do you live?"

"I bought the McCarty house on Skyler road, but why don't I just meet you somewhere." That way I could make a quick getaway if I needed to.

"No, as the injured party, I get to make the terms, and I insist on picking you up."

"Injured? The smiley faces may have died a gruesome death, but I think you're just fine," Eric pointed out sarcastically.

"I wasn't asking your opinion," Mike said pointedly.

I wasn't getting out of this. "Well, I guess I'll see you at six then." I paused. They were both looking up at me expectantly as if the next words I said would be the solution to world hunger. I decided to make my exit before I could be roped into anything else I wasn't comfortable with.

"Look, I think I've had all the drama I can handle for one night. I'm going home. It was nice to meet you both," I told them with as much grace as I could muster.

They were both immediately disappointed, but didn't argue. "Six o'clock," Mike said with a wave.

I made my escape and drove home slowly. I had no real reason to be in a hurry. My house was just as empty as ever.

As I drove, the evening's events played back in my mind. Banner treating me as if I were an expendable pawn to be placed wherever it was convenient for him, Mike and Eric hovering over me as if I was their new plaything, it was just too much.

I parked my truck and climbed out, not caring this time what shape my skirt was in. Nobody was looking.

I dropped the packet of information on the kitchen table and went upstairs, hoping to find my earring. Instead there was a scribbled note on the sink.

_B,_

_Took the whole drain apart and didn't find anything. Are you sure it went down? If the water was running it might have gotten flushed through._

_A _

It was too much. I lay down on my bed and sobbed. I cried for my mother's lost earring. I cried for the job I had wanted, but had been taken away on someone else's whim. I cried for my youth, stolen by the husband I had once loved, and the child that had briefly grown inside of me. I cried for Edward, the man whose life ended tragically so long ago.

I couldn't control it anymore. Every emotion that I had been suppressing since I arrived poured from my being. It was cathartic, and after a time I felt a sense of calm settle over me. I drifted off to sleep.

* * *

**EPOV**

_I couldn't do anything right, and now my angel was crying because of me. I longed to console her. I wanted to tell her that the earring that meant so much was safe in her jewelry box. All she had to do was to lift the lid. I'd had it out of the drain and back where it belongs before she was out the front door._

_Why couldn't I do that with her watching? I tried so hard to move something in her presence, but for some reason this newfound skill was temperamental._

_Just keeping Isabella safe was proving to be a challenge. When that hammer had nearly fallen on her head I had no problem knocking it away, although now that I thought about it, she hadn't exactly been watching. I had the urge to knock Anthony off the ladder as he scrambled down, but I was glad I resisted. He seemed resigned to maintaining a professional distance between himself and Isabella, for which I would be eternally grateful._

_I wished that I could say the same for that idiot at the school, Mike, with the wandering eyes and the stupid jokes. And now she was meeting him the next day? Not if I could help it. What had he ever accomplished that made him worthy of the attentions of my angel? He was soft. A typical small town boy, who grew up and never left the small town, never saw the larger world or made his mark on it._

_Spilling that drink wasn't an accident. Strangely enough, I had managed to tip it easily out of her hands without her realizing it. That must be the difference. Would I violate some law of nature by making her aware of me? Only time would tell._

_Everyone seemed content with Isabella's accident explanation, but I would happily confess to the world if I could. Mike should have taken the hint and left, but instead, he stood there like an idiot while Isabella mopped punch from his ugly tie. Then had the audacity to insist that she join him for dinner the next day. Couldn't he see that she didn't want to go?_

_But as much as I wanted to, I couldn't blame Mike, or even that bastard, Banner, for Isabella's current distress. It was my fault. I didn't think it through. All I could envision was how happy she would be when she found both earrings in her box. I still couldn't feel anything in the physical sense, but it just made my emotional perception that much sharper. Each of her sobs rang right through my heart, and I ached to soothe her._

_I couldn't touch her, but I imagined running my fingers across her back and over her long brown hair to calm her. I don't know if did any good, but eventually she settled down and fell asleep._

* * *

**BPOV**

I didn't rest long. After about an hour, I awoke feeling relieved of some of the emotional burden I had been carrying. I changed out of my clothes and brushed my teeth. Before climbing into bed, I took off my plain gold earrings to put them away. I was stunned when I opened the lid to my jewelry box. There lay not one but both of my mother's sapphire earrings. I had no explanation. I could only stare at them in wonder.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

Thanks to everyone for sticking with me. Life's been crazy lately, but then, when isnt' it? This chapter took much longer than I had planned. I hope to do much better with the next. It's already about 1/3 written, and it's one I'm really excited about.

Also need to say thanks to my absolutely incredible Beta, Spikey. Commas are my downfall, but she fixes them all.

If you're interested in learning more about the Suffrage movement, there are lots of great websites, but I found one particularly interesting. It contains links to all the NY Times article covering the Suffrage movement. You can find a link on my profile.

Since I did such a terrible job of describing Rose's party dress, you can also find a link to it on my profile.

Thanks to everyone who continues to read this story. Please leave a review. They are much appreciated.

The White Pen


	11. Chapter 11: Epiphany

**Chapter 11 – Epiphany**

This chapter is dedicated to the lovely Thaigher Lillie, who was kind enough to interview me for her blog the TwificBitches! Not only that, she also created the banner that can be found on my profile page. I swear she is psychic because she plucked it right from a scene in this chapter that existed nowhere but in my head at the time.

Thanks to Spikey, my awesome Beta. She cleans up my writing nicely.

Disclaimer: Twilight is owned by Stephenie Meyer. I am only borrowing a few of her characters. The remainder of the story is my own. No reproduction is permitted without my written consent.

* * *

**Diary of Rosalie Masen**

_January, 8, 1918_

_It's been two weeks since I've seen him. The weather has been too nasty to venture from the house, and Father hasn't seen fit to require a visit._

_Every day I find myself wondering if it was real. Did he really hold me and kiss me that night? Are we engaged? I have no ring, nothing tangible to prove it to myself or anyone else._

_Sometimes I like to imagine him kissing me like he did that night. He tasted of brandy. I swear I'm almost tempted to sneak down to father's study to nip a taste, just to remind me again of him._

_No word from Edward either. Winter is just getting started. It's going to be long and cold._

_January 27, 1918_

_Finally a letter from Edward. He still hasn't seen any fighting, but there is an air of tension in the letter that wasn't there before. I think he's starting to get nervous. He can't tell me much about military goings on, but my imagination is full of horrible ideas. The thought of my strong confident brother worrying almost makes me ill. I'm so scared that he won't return._

_More of the local boys leave every day, headed to training camps on the coast._

_February 3, 1918_

_Last night, I dreamed that we got a knock on the door. I opened it to find Emmett standing there in a full military uniform._

_"Goodbye, Rosie," he said, "I'm off to the war. You don't mind, do you? A strong girl like you, you'll keep the home fires burning for me too?"_

_Suddenly, my brother, James, was standing behind him. "Emmett, don't want to keep them waiting."_

_"Yes sir!" Emmett replied with a salute._

_"Time to go. You'll wait for me Rose?"_

_I promised that I would._

_He tipped his hat and was gone._

_No sooner had I closed the door than the bell rang again._

_I opened it to find Royce King dressed in an officer's uniform, leaning casually against a post on the front porch. When he saw that it was me standing in the doorway, a calculating smile spread across his face. He unfolded a telegram that he had been turning in his fingers and began to read._

_Only he didn't read it. His eyes never left my face._

_"Miss Rosalie Mason, we regret to inform you that your loved one, private E.M., was killed in the line of duty. He died valiantly for the cause. Please accept our deepest sympathies in your time of grief. Signed, the Army of the United States America, somewhere in France."_

_The dream Royce just stood there waiting for a reaction._

_A deep hole had formed in the pit of my stomach and threatened to swallow me whole. I had to ask, "E.M.? But, who is it? Edward or Emmett?"_

_"Both, I would imagine," he said flippantly, and where there had been only one telegram, he now held two identical ones._

_"Poor Rosalie! Nobody left to love her."_

_"No!" I shouted, but no sound came from my mouth. I was unable to move._

_"Come here, baby, I'll take care of you." His eyes held a look of innocence, but as he reached out to grab my wrist his expression twisted into an evil grin._

_"That's a good girl. You always were meant to be mine."_

_I woke up screaming, tangled in the bed sheets._

**BPOV**

I was dreaming. It was a nice dream, strange only in its simplicity. I was sitting in Edward's house, watching and listening as he practiced his piano.

He was a little out of practice from the sounds of it. The melody would slow down or stop all together when he missed a note, but then he would get past it, and the music would flow like magic from his fingers again.

It wasn't the first time I had dreamed this particular dream. It had become a frequent occurrence. Only the song changed each time. Today it was Claire de Lune. The notes rolled softly from the piano, so quietly that I almost couldn't hear them.

Slowly, the dream image dissolved as my mind rose from the depths of its unconscious wanderings to take in my surroundings. I was in my bed, alone. The first rays of the sunrise shone through the window. On my nightstand was the diary with Edward's picture lying next to it as usual. It would never stay tucked into the back flap.

Everything in the room was in order, but still something felt different. I closed my eyes trying to imagine what it could be. The instant my vision was cut off, my heart skipped a beat as my hearing tuned into one peculiar sound. The music hadn't stopped when the dream ended.

I wasn't afraid. A little excited, maybe, but definitely not afraid. Who could be playing my piano? I was expecting Anthony early this morning. He was scheduled for a later shift on his regular job, so he said he would be in around seven to start work on the kitchen. Did he arrive early and decide to play a bit before I woke up? I hadn't thought of Anthony as a pianist, but who else could it be? Either that or the starter switch on the piano's player mechanism was going bad.

I listened for only a moment before realizing that the song was nearing its end. I had to know just who or what was playing. Quietly I crept down the stairs and peaked around the corner into the living room.

I gasped softly as I found...

Nothing.

Nobody.

The final note had evaporated into the air like a drop of moisture in the desert. The last few bars of music remained un-played, ending the song with a feeling of irresolvable tension.

Had I imagined it? Was I sleep-walking? No, I told myself. I know what I heard!

I walked to the piano and opened the doors. Sure enough, a roll was still loaded. I hit the rewind button, and watched as it shuffled quickly back to the original spindle. Quickly I plucked it out and read the title.

Battle Hymn of the Republic.

That was definitely not what I heard, though I did remember loading it a few days earlier.

I was thinking so hard that my head began to hurt, but the sound of gravel crunching in the driveway provided a momentary distraction. I moved to the window to see who it was.

Anthony hopped out of the cab, opened the tailgate and pulled his toolbox to the edge. As I watched him sort some tools, I gave the diamond ring still hanging in the window and absentminded twist. It was far too early to catch any light with it, because the window faced south west. He snapped his toolbox shut and lugged it to the door where I quickly scooped up the flower on the threshold before he could step on it.

Anthony didn't say anything, but gave me a warning look as if to say I needed to watch my fingers or they might get crushed the next time. I'm sure the words going through his brain were laced profusely with profanity, but I didn't let it bother me. I felt like we had reached an understanding when we had talked the day before. He didn't frighten me anymore.

This was the first time Anthony had been over so early. I decided maybe a peace offering was necessary. I dropped the flower in the vase with the others, and went to start a pot of coffee.

Anthony set his tools down in a corner of the kitchen.

"So, new cabinets, floor, backsplash, the works?" he asked, reciting the list I had given him a few days earlier?

"The works," I agreed. He had done a fantastic job on the bathroom, making it look like the work of a high priced contractor from HGTV.

He didn't say anything else, but went to work immediately measuring the size of the kitchen and cabinets.

The silence was oppressive, but I couldn't bring myself to break it until, finally, the coffee was done.

"Would you like a cup?" I offered.

"Yeah, thanks," he said, taking the steaming mug from my hand. "I ran out at home."

He took a drink and made a face. "Is this decaf?"

I winced. How had he known? Jake had never been able to tell. "Yes, I only drink decaf."

"Why the hell would anyone want to drink decaf coffee?"

Why indeed. I decided to be honest. "The caffeine, or lack of it, would set off my ex-husband's temper sometimes."

"Ex-husband?" he asked raising an eyebrow.

"Well, almost-ex, I guess. I had the divorce papers written up, but he went and crashed his car before I could follow through."

"Hey, sorry. I didn't mean to pry into your love life or anything like that," he said quietly.

"No, it's okay. I don't mind. It's been over a year since the accident." I sipped my coffee slowly as the bitter drink brought forth even more bitter memories.

"I was wondering what brought you out here all alone to this shit hole of a town."

I chuckled at his less than subtle attempt to pry.

"I guess I was looking for a new start. I wanted to go somewhere nobody knew me or Jake. I wanted a place where I wouldn't be reminded of the past every time I turned a corner or met someone on the street."

"Well, just watch out. This place is quick to form opinions, and once they're set it's fucking impossible to change them," he said absentmindedly, his attention focused inward for a moment.

"So, this son of a bitch ex-husband of yours didn't react well with caffeine?" he said changing the subject back to where we started.

I laughed quietly. "Jake lived on coffee and beer," I said as I stirred in some sugar. "The beer I couldn't do anything about. I gradually switched the coffee to decaf in his thermos before he would go to work in the mornings. Then, when he didn't get his fix, he would take his temper out on the guys at the shop, not me. After a few weeks he was off of it completely, and had mellowed out some."

"The bastard's lucky he died before he met me. If there's one thing I can't stand, it's stupid fucks like that who don't know how to treat women. Anybody here gives you shit, you let me know."

I was a little stunned by his intensity, but I promised I would.

Just as he got up from the table to go back to work, I remembered the earring.

"Oh, Anthony, thanks for taking apart the sink again for me."

He turned to look at me. "Yeah, sorry I couldn't find it. You must have flushed it completely down the drain. It's probably in the septic tank now, and that's one thing I won't dig up for you."

"But…" He was serious. I could tell from the look on his face that he knew nothing about the earring. Had I gone crazy and just imagined that I dropped it?

He was waiting for me to finish what I had started to say. "I know it was a lot of work. Thanks anyways," I finished lamely.

"You're the boss," he said with a shrug and turned back to his toolbox.

Anthony worked noisily in the kitchen, removing the old cabinets, wall paper, and flooring. He had warned me that I would be living with just a fridge and microwave for a few weeks until he could get it done. I couldn't bear to watch my kitchen turn into a war zone, so I sat in the next room transcribing another chapter of the diary while he worked.

A few months into 1918, my cell phone rang. I could see from the display that it was Mike.

"Hey, Mike," I answered.

"Bella, how are you this fine morning?" his way too chipper voice asked.

"Okay, I guess. What's up?"

"Oh, I had something come up this afternoon." For a second I thought he was going to cancel on me. A wave of relief washed over me, but it was short-lived.

"I need to move our date back to six thirty. I need to take my mom to a doctor appointment. Is that okay?" He was helping his mother. Now I felt bad for hoping to avoid him.

"That's fine, Mike. Oh, I almost forgot. I need to pick up a few things in town. I'll just meet you at the restaurant at six thirty."

I could feel him cursing himself in silence for letting me get out of a ride in his car, but he didn't argue.

"Okay, I guess I'll see you there."

We said goodbye, but as soon as I set the phone back in its charger it rang again. I knew he wasn't going to let it drop that easily.

I hit the green button and started in on him immediately.

"Look, Mike, I really think it's better if I drive myself."

"Who's Mike?" Alice's voice asked.

"Alice?" I said, embarrassment creeping into my tone.

"The one and only," she replied. "Who's Mike?" she asked again. "New boyfriend?"

"Ugh. Mike Newton. He's a teacher at the school. I met him last night at the teacher orientation."

"Wow, you move fast, girl. You met him last night and you've already got a date lined up? With Mike Newton?" she teased.

"It's not a date. I'm just meeting him and a few of his friends for dinner. I thought it would be good to get to know some of the other teachers."

"Bella, listen to me. I know Mike Newton."

Of course you do, I thought sarcastically. Everyone knows everyone in this town.

"And if he did the asking and you did the accepting," she continued, oblivious to my thoughts, "then it's a date in his eyes. Just be prepared to fend him off."

"It's not really a date," I insisted. "Why? Is there something wrong with him? Please don't tell me he's some world-class pervert, or closet psycho."

"No. He's more of a lost puppy. Once he latches on to you it may be difficult to get rid of him. But then again, he is a nice guy. I just don't think he's exactly what you need."

"And what is it that you think I need?"

"A man, Bella, not a dog. You need a man who will take you out and whisper sweetly sexy words in your ear, and run his fingertips all over your body bringing you to a level of delight that you didn't know existed."

"And where can I find such a man?" I asked. I certainly couldn't say no to such a picture.

"You won't find one in this town," she said in exasperation. "It was fate that brought Jasper across my path that day. You'll just have to wait for fate to cross yours."

"Great," I sighed. "Well I don't know what kind of games fate is playing, but it is really messing with my head lately."

"Really?" Alice was intrigued.

"Yes. I've been meaning to ask you. Someone has been leaving a flower on my doorstep each morning ever since the night we went out. At first I thought it was just Jasper being nice, but he hasn't been here in ages. You didn't leave anything, did you?"

"Bella, if I left you flowers they would be in a pot with dirt, and I probably would have planted them for you." she said. "Hmm. This is an interesting event. It sounds like you have a secret admirer. Do you think it could be Mike?"

"No way. I just met him yesterday. The only other guy I've spent any time around is Anthony."

"Well, it's definitely not his style. I think you can safely rule him out. We'll just have to hope your admirer decides to show his face sometime soon. Until then, make sure you lock your door each night."

"Now you're scaring me, Alice."

"Don't be scared. What kind of flower is it?"

"It's always been a daisy. There are hundreds growing in the field across the road."

Alice was silent for a minute. "I've never felt any negative energy around you. I think it will work out just fine."

I was strangely relieved at her words. I didn't necessarily believe in the same degree of spiritualism that Alice did, but I trusted her.

"That reminds me of the reason I called. What are you doing on Thursday night, a week from tomorrow?" she asked.

"Nothing that I know of," I replied.

"Great. I want you to come with me to Ravenwood to meet a friend of mine."

"Ravenwood? It sounds like an old folk's home."

She giggled. "Hardly. It's sort of a cross between a campground and a hippie commune. It's a place where people with alternative viewpoints can get together and express themselves away from the condemnation of society at large."

"I don't know, Alice. It doesn't sound like my kind of place. Hippie commune makes me think sex and drugs. I just got this teaching job. I don't want to jeopardize it."

"You won't. I promise. I'd never put you in a position like that. It's just that there's someone I'd like you to meet. He lives in the city, but spends weekends at Ravenwood when he can."

"You aren't trying to fix me up, are you?" I asked, suddenly suspicious of her motives.

"Absolutely not," she laughed. "He's not your type and you are certainly not his."

"Then why are we going to this place?" I asked.

"Bella, you are just going to have to trust me. I know it sounds crazy, but it will be worth it," she pleaded.

I thought about it for a second. This town just seemed to get stranger the more time I spent here. What was a hippie commune on top of it?

"Okay," I reluctantly agreed.

"Great! I'll call you later in the week and we'll work out the details."

"I can't wait," I said with little enthusiasm.

Alice laughed. "Good luck with Mike."

I spent a quiet afternoon pondering the strange things that had been happening in my house. The more I thought about them the more unsettled I became. At least I managed to put the not-date out of my mind most of the time, but finally, I decided that I needed to get ready.

I took a quick shower, dried my hair, and since it looked to be a hot evening I threw on a cool summer sundress. I didn't bother with makeup. It wasn't a date after all. Who did I have to impress?

At six fifteen it was time to leave. I couldn't avoid it any longer. I climbed into my truck and turned the key, but the only sound was the whine of the starter. I tried three times, only to realize that nothing was happening. It wouldn't even sputter. There was no spark.

I climbed back out of the truck, irritated that I now needed to find a mechanic, but somewhat relieved that it was going to get me out of my not-date. I pulled my phone from my purse and dialed Mike's number. He answered on the first ring.

"Bella," he answered enthusiastically. "You couldn't wait to hear the sound of my voice?"

"Um, no. Sorry, Mike. I don't think I'll be able to make it. My truck won't start."

"Well, we can't have that. I'll be there in five minutes."

"No, Mike, I don't want you to go out of your way for me. We can all get together another time."

"Hey, it's no problem. I'll drive right past your house on the way back from my mom's."

"Okay, if you're sure it's no trouble."

I disconnected the call while cursing Mike's persistence. There would be no escaping the evening with him. While I was waiting I popped the hood on the truck to see if there was anything obvious that I could fix. There wasn't.

Jake had taught me how to check the oil level, but I didn't think that would help right now. I tried lamely to tug on the hoses and wires just to see if anything was loose, but everything was attached firmly. I slammed the hood closed again just as Mike pulled into the driveway in a beat up little green Ford Focus.

He climbed out pulling something out behind him, but I couldn't see what it was.

"Hey, Bella," he started, but paused as his eyes swept the length of my body from my sandals up to my chest, where his eyes grew wide for a moment before continuing on to my face. "You look great tonight."

"Uh, thanks," I stammered out. I looked down at my dress, realizing way too late that while it was a good way to fight off the summer heat, it would have the opposite effect on Mike by making my breasts look better than I ever thought possible.

"Oh, these are for you," he said. He held out a small bouquet of six long-stemmed carnations, tinted blue, with the tips of the petals glistening with gold glitter.

"Thanks, Mike, you didn't have to do that," I said trying to be polite, but meaning every word.

"Don't thank me, thank my mom. She's a florist. She specializes in wreaths for cemeteries, memorials, horse races, that kind of thing," he said proudly.

"Well, I'll just run inside and put these in some water. It'll only take a second," I replied, taking the flowers from him. I practically ran into the house, but took my time trimming them and putting them in a cup of water. For some reason, I didn't want to put them in the same vase as my daisies.

While inside, I dashed upstairs and dug frantically through my dresser in search of an old scarf that I had stashed in the back. I pulled it out of the dark corner where it was hiding and tied it loosely around my neck. Perfect. It was a light weave and wouldn't be too hot, but would provide some additional cover over my newfound cleavage.

Mike's face fell slightly when I emerged from the house, but he didn't say anything about the scarf.

"I'm ready now," I said.

"Before we go, I think you should give your truck another try. Maybe I can fix it."

I was highly skeptical, but decided to give it a go. I pulled the keys from my purse, but Mike snatched them from my hand. Before I could protest he had climbed into the door and put the key in the ignition. With a flip of his wrist, the truck roared to life, sounding just like it must have on the day it was driven off the sales lot.

I was dumbfounded. Mike revved the engine a few time before deciding it was fine. He turned the key off and hopped back out.

"I guess I have the magic touch," he said with a self-satisfied smirk on his face.

"I guess so," I replied. I couldn't decide whether I was relieved to have a working vehicle again or angry that I was now stuck riding with Mike on our not-date, which was feeling more like a date every minute.

I thought about protesting that since my truck was now working again, I could drive myself, but he was already waiting expectantly with his passenger door open. I couldn't bring myself to disappoint him. I got into his car, and he shut the door firmly behind me.

Mike was taller than me by several inches, so he looked like he practically had to fold himself in half to slide past the steering wheel, but he did it with practiced ease. I thought the atmosphere inside the car would feel a bit claustrophobic, but it didn't. Mike made small talk for the short trip into town, and I found myself enjoying his company.

Eric and Ben were already seated at a table when we arrived at the restaurant.

"Bella, what's up, girlfriend?" Eric greeted me enthusiastically, pulling me into a one-armed hug before we sat down. Mike shot him a dirty look, but he ignored it.

"So tell us, Bella, how do you like the town so far?"

"It's a nice place. I've only met a few people, but so far everyone's been very friendly."

"Yesterday you said you bought the old McCarty house. How do you like living next to a cemetery? I don't think I could get any sleep with all those dead people just next door." Eric asked, squirming at the thought.

"The cemetery isn't bad. It's a really peaceful place."

I looked up as a strange thought crossed my mind.

"Though, I think my house may be haunted."

Eric's eyes went wide. "Ooh, like the Amityvile Horror? Maybe we should get an exorcist to come over from Lilly Dale."

Mike kicked him roughly under the table. "Would you cut it out! Don't scare her."

Turning back to me he asked, "So why do you think your house is haunted?"

Even Ben's eyes perked up a little as he asked the question.

I looked down, immediately embarrassed at making such a ridiculous assumption.

"Nothing bad has happened, just strange. For example, every morning someone leaves a flower on my doorstep. I can't think who it could possibly be. And then yesterday, I lost an earring down the drain in the sink. I asked Anthony to get it out. He left a note saying that he took the sink apart but couldn't find it."

"It must have gotten flushed down," said Ben in a morose voice.

"That's what I thought, but then I found the earring in my jewelry box."

"Anthony Cullen?" Mike asked with an expression of disbelief.

"Yes, he's helping me fix up the house."

Mike shook his head. "Cullen must have put it back without telling you. It would give him a chance to go through your stuff. You might want to look through and see if anything else is missing." I could tell he had more to say, but he kept it to himself.

I rolled my eyes in irritation. "He's had plenty of opportunities to go through my things, not that I believe for a minute that he would! Besides, why would he put the earring back and write a note saying he couldn't find it? Why not just leave it on the sink?"

They couldn't argue with that.

I continued with my story. "There've been other things too. I can't be sure about this one, but the other day, I startled Anthony while he was working on the roof, and he dropped his hammer. It skidded to the edge and fell. I was sure it was going to hit me but it missed me by inches."

"Whoa, you're lucky it didn't kill you," Eric said.

"And the strangest thing was the music."

I had their attention now, reluctantly in Ben's case.

"I have an old player piano, a family heirloom. I can't play, but sometimes I like to listen to the music rolls. This morning when I woke up, I had been dreaming that someone was playing Claire de Lune. I woke up, but could still hear the music playing, as if the dream hadn't quite ended. I got up out of bed and went downstairs, but the minute I turned the corner, it stopped. The song just evaporated, unfinished."

They all stared at me for a moment before something seemed to click in Mike's eyes.

"The switch on the player mechanism must have gone bad."

"No, it works fine. Besides, the scroll loaded in the piano was The Battle Hymn of the Republic. I don't think anyone could confuse that with Claire de Lune."

That stumped him, but Eric was ready with another explanation.

"It must have been a waking dream. It can happen when you wake up too fast from REM sleep. Your brain doesn't completely let go of the dream state. There's a technical name for it, hypno something or other." He sat back in his chair satisfied that his diagnosis had settled the matter.

"Maybe, I don't know. It was just really strange. Don't get me wrong, I love the house, and I've been really happy there so far. I just don't know what to make of it all."

I was starting to become a little uncomfortable at being the center of the conversation, but thankfully the waitress chose that moment to take our drink orders.

"Hey, have you guys checked out that seminar on interventions for struggling readers?" Mike asked the group?

"Yeah, that looks like a good one. I think we should go," Eric said. "We try to pick at least three or four seminars to go to during the summer to fit in our professional development credits," he explained. "Do you want to join us?"

"Sounds like an interesting topic. When is it?" I asked.

"It's next month at a lecture hall at UB. I think it's my turn to drive," said Mike.

Eric laughed. "Five of us in your little clown car? I don't think so."

I found it hard to hide my smirk. I had been thinking the same thing.

Fortunately, Mike was too busy glaring at Eric to notice. "Hey! You can't make fun of the Mean Green Machine. Besides, I think Bella would rather ride in my car than that pimpmobile you drive."

"Ya got that right," Ben finally chipped in with a morose laugh. "Angela always hated it. She said it smelled like feet."

"I can't believe it. She always loved Yolanda! So do you for that matter."

"She was just too nice a person to say it to your face, and now that she's gone, I don't see the point anymore. Excuse me." Ben pushed his chair away from the table and stomped off toward the restrooms.

"Boy, Angela's leaving really did a number on him," said Eric.

"Who was Angela?" I asked. "He talks about her as if she passed away."

"No, she's very much alive, just not here." Eric looked intently at Mike. "You better tell her the story. If she's going to work here she needs to know."

Mike sighed. "I wanted to keep this evening light, but with Ben here, it's just not possible. Eric's right. You need to know before school starts."

"You make it sound like a tragedy."

"I wouldn't call it a tragedy, I mean, like I said, nobody's died."

"Yet," Eric piped in.

"Do you mind?" Mike glared at Eric for a moment then resumed his story.

"Okay, so Angela was our second grade teacher. She was one of the best. She could nurture the talent of the gifted kids and draw out the capabilities of the ones who struggled. She'd discipline with love and convince the ones with low self-esteem that they were worth the effort. It was great to get a class after they'd spent a year with her because they were just full of life.

"And on top of that, she was a great person too. She was friendly and bubbly, someone you just enjoyed being around. Everyone liked her, but Ben had a huge crush on her. He worked for a year to get up enough nerve to talk to her, and just as he was about to ask her out, she went and got herself fired."

I didn't like the sound of that. If such a great teacher couldn't survive in this school, how could I?

"What happened?" I asked.

"I told you about Heidi and Banner." I nodded in acknowledgement. How could I forget that I lost my position to the woman having an affair with the Principal?

"We all knew it was going on. Heidi was spending so little time in the classroom that she was neglecting her students. Angela was the only one brave enough to speak up about it. Of course the only one that could do anything about it was the school's Superintendent, who just happens to be Heidi's husband. Heidi has him twisted around her little finger. She said that Angela was just jealous because she wanted her position. The Superintendent wouldn't listen to reason and told Banner to fire Angela instead."

"So that's why Ben seems so unhappy. That's awful."

"Yeah, the worst part is that I really think she liked him too. She was really easygoing with everyone else, but she would get all tongue-tied the minute she laid eyes on him. I used to catch her sneaking looks at him across the cafeteria when he wasn't looking. They could have had something great. But now she's gone and you're here in her place."

Mike didn't mean to hurt me, but his words struck me hard. My luck at finding this job was the direct result of Angela and Ben's misfortune.

"So that's why I got this job? I feel terrible."

"Don't feel bad. It's not your fault," said Ben. He patted me on the shoulder as he sat down at the table. "I don't know you very well, but you seem like a good person. Angela would be glad to know that Banner at least managed to bring in someone who will be good for the kids. She loved them."

"So what happened to Angela?" I asked. I had to know.

"Oh, it worked out okay for her," said Ben. She threatened to sue the school district, unless they gave her a good recommendation. Neither side could really afford a lawsuit, so Banner caved on that detail. She landed a great job at a top notch private school in the city."

"You mean she's less than an hour away?" I asked, puzzled.

"Might as well be China. She's not here anymore," said Ben. He sounded so hopeless.

"What are you waiting for? Call her!" I demanded.

Ben was shocked. "I can't do that!" he protested. "What if she doesn't want to talk to me? What if she hangs up on me? What if I can't get the words out?"

"What if? What if you don't have to spend the rest of your life as a miserable loser, pining for the girl that got away?" Eric chimed in a little more harshly than I would have liked, but his sentiments were pretty close to my own.

"Yeah! What if she's missing you as much as you're missing her?" asked Mike. "You'll never know if you don't call her."

"Trust me. At least if you talk to her, then you'll know. Whether it's good or bad, you'll be able to get on with your life," I concluded.

Ben sat back in his chair. He didn't say anything else, but I could see a glimmer of hope in his eyes.

Mike and Eric changed the subject to less depressing topics, filling the time with funny stories from the school and the town. By the end of the evening I felt like I knew half the school on a first name basis. As much as I had been dreading this little dinner party earlier in the day, I was now glad that I came. With friends like them on my side, I knew I would be okay.

We split the check, with Mike reluctantly letting me cover my fair share. Ben hurried off with a quick goodbye.

Mike held the door for me as I climbed back into his car. Despite my initial fears, it had been a pleasant evening. Mike and his friends had opened their circle and included me in it. They were good people. They would help me navigate my new job and make a success of it. As we pulled away from the curb, I felt a little more of the tension I had been holding inside fall away.

Not a minute later, however, I realize that Mike was not taking me directly home. He had turned down a country road that I had never taken before.

"Um, Mike? I live that way."

Mike grinned.

"The evening is still early. I have something I want to show you. I promise you'll like it."

We drove for about twenty minutes through the winding country side. My paranoid brain tracked every curve, but we made no turns, just driving west into the sunset. Finally we passed through a small town, and just beyond it, Mike pulled into a small gravel parking lot.

"Where are we?" I asked, getting a little nervous.

"Silver Lake Beach." He pointed to a path that led through a row of trees just thick enough to obstruct my view. "I thought we could take a walk. It's beautiful in the evening."

We got out of the car. Mike mumbled something about changing his shoes, but it hardly registered. The mention of a beach had captured my mind. I had gone on one trip to the ocean when I was a little girl. I loved it.

I couldn't wait for Mike. It felt as if something was waiting for me down that path. It was just a tingle of the energy I had felt this morning when I woke from the strange dream, but it was enough to propel me forward looking for the source.

I hurried down the path until I emerged from the trees and stopped short. There in front of me was the most beautiful view I had seen in a very long time. The evening sun glinted off the lake as if blazing a path of gold down its center. Without a cloud in the sky, I had to shield my eyes from the brightness.

The lake extended to the north and south in a huge swath of deep blue so vast that it looked like a whole ocean. Small waves lapped on the beach washing sand and gravel up and down in a never ending cycle.

"Bella? Hey, you took off without me." I turned and saw Mike jogging to catch up to me. "So what do you think?"

"It's beautiful. I had no idea this was here."

"Amazing, isn't it. It's hard to believe that Canada is just fifty miles away across the water."

I turned and started walking up the beach. Mike followed in silence, reminding me of Alice's puppy warning. I thought about faking a headache to get Mike to take me home. Our dinner had been nice, but I still wasn't comfortable being alone with a man again. No, that wasn't right. It was Mike that didn't belong in the role. I was wishing for someone else.

The pull of the mysterious energy had lessened with Mike's arrival, but it had not totally dissipated. As we walked in silence for a few moments it began to grow again.

The scene was a study in opposing forces: the soft lapping of the water accompanied by the crunch of sand and gravel under my feet, the warmth of the sun pulled away by the cool breeze off the lake, the delicious hum of the unseen force balanced by the void emanating from Mike's presence to my right. Would each of the forces stay in balance? I could feel them each battling silently for dominance as if heading for a breaking point when two things happened simultaneously. Mike stumbled, and a green glint from the beach caught my eye. It flashed for just a second then disappeared. I froze.

Mike and all of my other problems were forgotten as I scanned the ground looking for the source of the green light. As I slowly turned my head again, I saw it there on the ground a few feet ahead of me. Bending over, I plucked it up and held it in my hand.

It was a piece of beach glass, pale emerald in color, polished smooth by the waves and the sand. I had seen jewelry fashioned from similar stones, but this one reminded me of something else, something from my dreams. This was the same color I saw when I dreamed of Edward's eyes.

Edward.

The crescendo I had felt building, ended not with a cataclysm of force, but with the snap of the last piece of a puzzle into its place.

The flower, the piano, the earring, the picture from the diary, the green glint of the glass. Together they all formed a picture that pointed in only one unlikely, wholly illogical direction.

Edward.

While I held my epiphany, Mike had picked himself up and re-tied his shoe.

"If you want, we can take a walk up the path next to the creek. There's a little swimming hole up there. Maybe we could try it out some time," he said.

Swimming with Mike? In a bathing suit? My entire body wanted to cringe back. I took a step backwards to keep out of his reach but he didn't notice. Somehow, his foot caught on a piece of driftwood laying on the beach and he tripped in the sand.

He cursed silently under his breath before picking himself up and dusting off his hands and knees. I made no move to help him.

"I don't know what my problem is. I'm not this much of a klutz around anyone else, but you seem to bring it out in me."

I didn't answer. Instead I brought my hand up to press on my temple, getting ready to launch my escape plan.

"So how about that walk?"

"Mike, I don't think so. The beach is beautiful, but I don't think I'm up for anything more tonight." I rubbed my temple. "I think I'm getting a migraine."

"Oh? I think I have some Tylenol in my car. Do you want me to run and get it?" He seemed really concerned and I felt bad about lying to him, but I had just had a revelation. I needed to get home. Now!

"No. Just take me home. Please?"

"Okay." His face fell. "Let me help you back to the car."

"It's all right. I can make it." I avoided his hand.

We walked quickly back up the beach and through the parking lot. As soon as he clicked the locks, I was in the door, pulling it closed behind me.

Mike was quiet for the whole drive home. I could tell that he was really starting to like me. I felt like I was using him. I had agreed to go out with him after all, but I just didn't feel anything for him beyond friendship, and didn't think I ever would.

He drove too slowly for my liking, always staying just under the speed limit. It took all of mycontrol not to reach over to his knee and press his foot to the floor as hard as I could, but I didn't. He probably would have thought I was making a move, and I didn't want to encourage his feelings any further. Instead I closed my eyes and forced myself to breathe deeply.

I didn't have any experience in rebutting unwelcomed advances. Jake always took care of that sort of thing for me. I winced as I remembered of the time he knocked one of Tyler Crowley's teeth out, just for talking to me.

I felt the car come to a stop and opened my eyes to find us sitting in my driveway. Mike hopped quickly out of the car and moved around to open my door in a flash.

I scrambled out of the car and up the walk to the front door as quickly as I could. As I turned my key in the lock, I heard Mike step up behind me, clearly intent on following me into the house. What was it going to take for him to get the message? Did I need to swat him with a newspaper like a puppy?

I turned around to face him. "Mike, I had a nice time tonight, but I really just need to rest."

"Oh, okay." He started to turn back, but hesitated. "Are you sure I can't come in? I can make sure there are no ghosts prowling around."

I felt behind me for the door knob and clutched it tightly. "I'm sure, Mike. Thanks. I'll see you at school."

He wavered as if he was going to lean in for a kiss, but at the last minute, he thought better of it and turned back to his car. I turned the knob and slipped quickly through the door, locking it behind me.

My relief at escaping from Mike only lasted a moment before he was forgotten entirely.

The house was quiet, but I didn't feel alone.

'This is insane,' I thought to myself. No. Books falling, and flowers appearing, music playing, objects moving, that is insane, yet each of those things had been very real.

I walked through the kitchen and into the living room. Nothing moved. Even my footsteps didn't make a sound. The whole house seemed to be frozen in time, yet it crackled with energy as if some powerful force was waiting, begging to be unleashed.

With a tremor in my voice I called out, "Edward?"

* * *

**EPOV**

_Dear God,_

_I don't know why I'm still here, caught between two worlds. I don't know what you have planned for me. I have nothing left that I can give. I ask only one thing. God, give me strength. Whether it's the strength to influence her world, the strength to move on to the next, or the strength to remain caught here in between as an idle spectator._

_In the end, may your will be done. Just, God, give me strength._

* * *

**Author's Note**

Edward is at his breaking point. I hope you all can feel the tension in the air. We're getting into some of my favorite chapters. I can't wait to see what you think!

Don't forget to check out Tyggy's blog at twificbitches(dot)blogspot(dot)com. If you want to read the interview you can find it in the blog archive under April 2011. When you are all done reading my chapter (and leaving a review), I want you all to head over to the blog and show her some love.

If you like, you can follow me on twitter: mywhitepen

I love my readers!

The White Pen


	12. Chapter 12: Are You There?

**Chapter 12 – Are you there?**

_Author's Note:_

Thanks once again to Spikey for her fantastic editing skills!

Disclaimer: Twilight is owned by Stephenie Meyer. I am only borrowing a few of her characters. The remainder of the story is my own. No reproduction is permitted without my written consent.

* * *

_Say You'll Haunt Me_ by Stone Sour

I can see the patterns on your face

I can see the miracles I trace

Symmetry in shadows I can't hide

I JUST WANT TO BE RIGHT BY YOUR SIDE

I will give you everything to

Say you want to stay, you want me too

Say you'll never die, you'll always haunt me

I want to know I belong to you

Say you'll haunt me

**BPOV**

The room was silent. The setting sun shone through the window where the diamond ring sun-catcher refracted the light perfectly into a thousand tiny rainbows. Each splash of color was frozen to its spot with an almost unnatural stillness.

"Edward?" I called out to the empty room. My thundering heart was the only thing to answer.

I walked to the center of the room and turned slowly, taking in every object in the room. The window with the ring catching the evening light, the piano that had played itself, the comfy couch where I had spent so many evenings reading his story. Nothing moved, not even a current of air.

"Edward, I know you're here. Please, give me something!" I tried one last time.

Still nothing. A tremor of doubt set in.

I sat down on the floor with my knees pulled into my chest and wearily rubbed my eyes. It had been a long day and a tiring week. I wanted to cry, but I wouldn't give in. I couldn't let myself.

I needed to rest. I told myself that the world would look rational in the morning.

As I pulled my hands from my eyes, a flash of light caused me to blink.

I looked up for the source of the light, and my heart stopped. My ring spun rapidly in the window, bathing the room in a stream of sparkling rainbows.

I rubbed my eyes and looked again. I hadn't imagined it.

Quickly I stood up, and ran to the window, tripping over my own feet in my haste. I stopped short as I reached the window, and slowly raised my hand to the spinning ring. As I approached it, the ring spun faster driven by an unseen force.

My fingers paused just inches from the spinning crystal. I was afraid to touch it. If this was to be my only sign I couldn't disturb it. I didn't want this moment to end.

Instead, I whispered again, "Edward?"

With a snap the string broke and the ring clattered noisily to the window sill.

"No, no, No, NO!" I yelled.

Quickly, I scooped the ring up off the floor and dashed off to my spare room. I dug frantically through the boxes that temporarily held the contents of my kitchen while Anthony was working on the renovation. With a sigh of relief, I found the scissors and string from my junk drawer at the bottom of the third box.

Instead of tying the ring in the window again, I pushed the piano bench to the center of the room so that I could tie one end of the string to the light fixture hanging from the ceiling. With the string now dangling to the floor, I pushed the bench out of the way and sat cross-legged. I cut the long end of the string about a foot from the ground and tied the ring to the end.

"Please work," I whispered into my fist before gently releasing the ring so that it hung perfectly still in front of me.

I took a deep breath and whispered, "Edward?"

I held my breath for a moment as I watched, praying that I hadn't imagined it. The string hung perfectly still for a moment, but then a shiver ran down its length, before it swung before me in a long slow arc.

I squealed in delight, with maybe a little bit of fear thrown in. Questions swirled in my head, but I was so amazed by the sight before me that I couldn't settle on any one. Slowly, the ring settled as if the invisible hand was no longer guiding its motion.

I realized that I needed to ask another question. I decided that before we went anywhere else I needed to know just who or what I was talking to.

"Edward, is it really you? I mean, if you're someone other than Edward, that's okay, I just assumed…" I shut my mouth when I realized that I was rambling.

The string swung again, but in a smaller arc this time, as if I had confused my ghost, and it didn't know how it wanted to answer.

"Ugh," I grunted in frustration. "We need some other signal or we aren't going to get anywhere, a yes and a no."

I grasped the now still string in my fingers and swung it back and forth in the arc, then in a circle as if drawing a large 'O' on the floor.

"Can you do this?" I asked my ghost.

I stilled the string again and let go. It swung dutifully in the arc of the pendulum for a moment before it switched to swing in a big wide 'O'.

"Yes!" I clapped my hands in delight.

"Okay, show me 'yes'." It swung back to the pendulum.

"Now, show me 'no'." The ring switched to a large lazy circle.

"Excellent!" I felt like I was teaching a class on ghost communication. I made myself comfy on the floor with a pillow from the sofa. This conversation was not going to be a short one.

"Now before I ask anything else, I really need to know. Are you Edward Mason? The one I've been reading about?"

Slow arc.

-YES-

As if to reinforce the answer, Edward's picture was plucked from the diary that I had left on top of the piano earlier in the day. It floated down like a feather landing in my lap.

I picked up the picture and stared at his features; the soft brown hair, the finely sculpted chin, the eyes that seemed to pierce through time to see a lonely woman.

"You were so handsome." I sighed. Edward didn't answer, and I wondered if he was being shy.

"You were, you know. I bet you had the ladies fighting over you." The string remained still.

"Don't want to talk about your looks. I understand. Let's try something else. Oh, for the sake of my sanity, can you please tell me, was it you that pulled my earring from the sink? I know it went down."

-YES-

"And the piano playing the other morning? Tell me I didn't imagine that."

The string was silent. Instead, the piano sprang to life, startling me from the floor. The keys rippled up and down in a series of scales that a child would play for warm-up before a lesson. Seeming to grow bored with scales, Edward then slid smoothly into a new piece that I recognized as Mozart, though which of his works, I wasn't sure.

"You play beautifully," I said as the notes tapered off into silence. "You've been practicing."

I turned back to the ring, but there was no response. He put on a big display, but now seemed too shy to talk about it.

"But tell me why," I continued. "Why didn't you do something to let me know you were here?"

The string vibrated for a minute and I feared that it would snap again, but instead, a harsh cord sounded from the piano making me jump.

It was the sound of frustration.

"Sorry!" I shouted, and the cord dropped instantly.

"I get it. You tried. You've been trying all along, but I've been oblivious."

The ring swung in a long arc.

-YES-

"I wonder what else you've done," I asked more to myself than him.

Edward didn't reply, but waited patiently for a question he could answer.

"Let me think. What other crazy things have happened that I couldn't explain. The flower at the door each morning?"

-YES-

"The picture that won't stay tucked into the book?"

-YES-

"Anthony's level?" That one had almost been funny, watching Anthony tear the house up looking for the small pocket level that was usually never more than an arm's length away from him. It would have been hilarious if I hadn't been worried about him punching a hole in my wall out of frustration. He had eventually found it tucked in the back of the cabinet under the bathroom sink.

The string was still for a moment, before it swung in a reluctant arc again.

-YES-

"Edward, you really shouldn't torment Anthony," I chided. "I know he can be a bit, well, abrasive, but he really is helping me out."

No response.

"Tell me, is he a relative of yours? I mean you didn't have any children, did you?"

The ring hesitated for a moment, and then swung in a small circle.

-NO-

I wondered at the hesitation but didn't push it.

"But he is part of your family. I thought Alice said he was the great grandson of your brother James."

-YES-

"But you still don't like him."

-YES-

"Why?"

Stillness. This wasn't a yes or no question. I needed to elaborate.

"Is it because he's a bit rude and crude?"

-YES-

"Or maybe because the rest of the town doesn't like him?"

-YES-

"Or because he looks so much like you."

-Yes-

"Or because he danced with me that night at the club."

The ring had swung in ever bigger arcs as I fired off questions, until the last one. It paused motionless for a moment at the top of its swing, and then fell limply and stilled.

"That's what it was." I couldn't hide the smile from my face. "You're jealous of Anthony."

There was no response for a moment, but then the ring spun in a wide circle.

-NO-

I wasn't buying it.

"I know you're lying, even if you won't admit it," I said teasing him a bit.

As I thought back to that night a more serious expression came over me.

"I guess I got carried away. I never meant for anything to happen with Anthony. I see him as a somewhat protective older brother. When I was there in his arms, in my mind I was…"

I paused, not sure if I wanted to complete the sentence. Edward wasn't going to settle for that. The ring moved in a small arc as if to nudge me into continuing.

I felt the blush settle over my face, but for some reason I couldn't hold back from him.

"I thought I was dancing with you, okay?"

"Maybe I am crazy, but I feel like I've gotten to know you over the past few weeks, just from reading Rose's words. I've taken to talking to you when nobody else is around. They say that talking to yourself is a sign of insanity, but I figured that talking to a ghost wasn't quite as bad." I had to laugh at myself over that. All those hours spent alone in the house spilling random thoughts without a clue that my intended audience was there listening to every word.

"It must have been some combination of alcohol and seventies love ballads that made me temporarily lose my mind. Not that I'd have to be crazy to dance with you," I hastily corrected. "Just that, God knows it's been a long time since I was out dancing, and I've never drunk that much alcohol before. That definitely had something to do with it.

"Besides, now that I know Anthony better, it's ridiculous to think that he could ever be you, no matter how close the physical resemblance.

"It was just so easy that night just to close my eyes and think just for a moment that you were really there with your arms around me. I completely lost myself for a while, at least until the panic started."

The hazy memories from that night suddenly clicked into place to form a clear picture.

"That was you too! You caused the fire that night! Oh my God, Edward, someone could have been seriously hurt! What were you thinking?"

As my accusations flew, the string swung and circled as if trying to explain until another harsh cord blared from the piano, hanging in the air for a moment before drifting off into silence.

I sat for a moment, trying to organize my thoughts. I still didn't completely understand what had happened, but it wasn't fair for me to blame him.

"Sorry," I whispered. "I'm sorry, Edward."

No response.

"You didn't mean for it to happen, did you?"

Again, there was nothing for a moment until the ring slowly began to move.

-NO-

"It's okay. No one was hurt. I didn't mean to accuse you. I know you wouldn't hurt anyone. It's just that I was so scared that night. Everyone was. The whole thing was just surreal. I was there on the dance floor, with my body practically humming from the alcohol flowing through it. In my mind your arms were around me. I could feel your touch. It set me on fire."

I was rambling again, almost forgetting myself. I had talked to Edward for so long without realizing he was there that it had become second nature for me to admit some of my deepest thoughts, things I would never admit to another living person.

Edward made no response, but I could feel him there with me, hanging on every word.

"But it was a lie, wasn't it?" I continued. "One second, I was sure it was you. The next, I was standing there with Anthony.

"He is a poor substitute, you know," I teased, trying to lighten the mood. "Anthony's not a bad guy, and he's definitely got those handsome Masen looks, but don't think for a minute that there will ever be anything between us."

A discord sounded from the piano for a moment causing me to chuckle. We hadn't made it beyond yes and no, but Edward was figuring out how to express his emotions plainly.

"Honestly, the most he's entered my thoughts has been to wonder what the whole town has against him."

"You were all I thought about that night. And then later, when…" I stopped short, remembering just what I had done later. Had Edward been there with me in my room, when I…? It may have been the effects of the alcohol, but he had been more real to me there than ever before. Surely not.

I needed to switch to a safer subject!

"Okay, enough about that night! Where were we? Oh, yeah. We were talking about the things you've done to get my attention. Let's see. Oh, my truck. Did you keep it from starting earlier?"

The string hesitated for a minute as if he were loath to admit it, but then…

-YES-

"But why? Did you not want me to go for some reason?"

-NO—

"You don't like Mike?" I guessed. It was pretty obvious after the Anthony discussion.

-NO—

"Well, we both found out how well that one worked out. I thought I'd never get away from him tonight.

"You know, you really need to trust me, Edward. You can't try to scare away every man in my life. You'll probably decide to chase away Jasper next."

The notes of two keys trilled ominously from the piano.

"Don't even think it." I said pointedly. "If anyone is on your side it is Jasper, though he would probably think I'm insane if he could see me now."

Edward didn't respond, but I imagined him sulking at being scolded.

"Let's talk about the women in your life. I only know what I've read so far in Rose's diary. She was special to you, wasn't she?"

-YES-

He responded without hesitation. As the ring started swinging, the piano rang out to the tune of 'Polly Wolly Doodle'.

I laughed merrily at his enthusiasm.

"Polly Wolly Doodle? Was that one of her favorites?"

-YES-

"I wish I knew the words. I'll have to Google them later. You must have had a happy childhood with Rose and James."

-YES-

"I knew you must care for her a great deal. I've wondered how much of her story you knew and what you thought of it. You were there for the beginning, with Emmett, but you were gone for most of their courtship, and her Suffrage work. Her perspective on the Suffrage movement was fascinating. I wonder how much she wrote you about it.

The ring couldn't decide between a circle and an arc. He was either confused by my question or did not have a straight answer.

"I guess I need to be more specific. Have you been reading the diary along with me?"

-YES-

"And did she tell you the whole story about her suffrage work in her letters?"

The ring started to swing in an arc, but then changed to a circle.

I took this to mean that he knew some but not all.

"We take the right to vote for granted now, but they worked so hard for it. I know I'll never walk into another voting booth without remembering what they faced to earn the right to vote. By the way, the nineteenth amendment was ratified in 1920 giving women suffrage throughout the country. Rose must have been so happy on that day. I hope the diary continues that far, but I'm not sure if it does. It's tempting to skip to the end, but I want to read the full story.

-YES-

"Alice said that Rose and Emmett were married, but I'm only part way through the diary. I don't know how they managed to go against your father's wishes. Were you there?"

-NO-

"You must have as many questions as I do about her story."

-YES-

We discussed, or rather I discussed what I had read in the diary, with Edward providing his yes and no analysis on my observations. It was a difficult way to hold a conversation, but was so much more satisfying than spending the evening alone. I had wondered so many times what he thought of it all. It was so exciting now, to get some idea, however vague, of what he felt.

We had fallen quickly into what was at least a deep friendship, and what probably could have rapidly become something more, if not for the curtain of death that separated us. The joy at being with him in whatever way possible overrode any thoughts of frustration at his lack of a body. He was here with me in spirit. We could communicate. I was thrilled to have that much of him.

Late in the evening I think Edward sensed that I was getting tired. When I joked about wanting to curl up with a good book and go to sleep, he flipped open the cover of the diary and shuffled the pages to the point where I had left off. I took the hint, and picked up the diary and stretched out with it on the couch so that we could both continue Rose's story.

**EPOV**

_If it was possible for a lost soul to feel contentment, this was it._

_My beautiful angel lay on the couch, no doubt worn out by the emotional ups and downs of the day. I was flying higher than I could ever remember._

_Communicating with her was so easy, and to think I almost let the opportunity slip away. It was my fear that made it so difficult to express myself in her presence. I don't know now what I was afraid of. Rejection? Scaring her away forever?_

_It was irrelevant. She was just as happy to find me as I was to find her._

_Our method of communication was crude, but it was working better than I had hoped. Even when I couldn't give a straight answer she seemed to sense my meaning. I knew that with practice we would have no trouble understanding each other._

_Once again I stood sentry over my sleeping angel, this time more at peace with the world than I had been in a very long time._

* * *

**Author's Note:**

I need to apologize once again to my readers for the long delay between chapters. Since I last posted, I've had a holiday, a vacation, a major grade school project, and most recently, lightning all working against my getting this posted. Fortunately I have persevered!

Thanks to my wonderful readers for sticking with me, especially DutchGirl01 and twifam1 for prodding me along. Every little bit helps.


	13. Chapter 13: Outed

Thanks to Spikey for working her magic again with this chapter!

Disclaimer: Twilight is owned by Stephenie Meyer. I am only borrowing a few of her characters. The remainder of the story is my own. No reproduction is permitted without my written consent.

* * *

Chpater 13: Outed

_Boys of Summer_ by Don Henley

_Out on the road today I saw a deadhead sticker on a Cadillac._  
_A little voice inside my head said, 'Don't look back. You can never look back.'_

**Diary of Rosalie Masen:**

_February 23, 1918_

_Two months have passed by with no word from Emmett. He hasn't been to the house at all, and I haven't been able to get out. We had a huge snowstorm two weeks ago and the roads are still almost impassible. Father had someone drop off some provisions from the store, but ordered Mother and I to stay home._

_Never have I spent a more trying winter. All I have is the memory of the time I spent with Emmett. Whenever I'm not otherwise occupied, I find myself reliving that moment we had together outside under the cold night sky. I remember his touch, his words, and the feel of his kiss. He tasted of brandy. I swear I'm almost tempted to sneak down to Father's study to nip a taste, just to remind myself again of him._

_I wonder sometimes if it was real. Did he propose, or was it a product of my childish imagination? I have nothing to show for it. No token of his love, just the memory of his words and his kiss._

_March 7, 1918_

_There are rumblings on the war front that our boys will be entering the fight soon. Edward seemed to think the same thing in the letter I received yesterday._

_He couldn't give me any details of what's going on or even where he is, just the usual 'somewhere in France.' It makes me want to curse whomever it was that started this war, and scream at the generals to be careful with the lives of our boys._

_I feel so useless._

_The snow is finally starting to thaw a bit. Maybe the Red Cross work will pick up in a few weeks. That would add some excitement._

_March 9, 1918_

_I received a strange letter from Edward today. It was so unlike him. He mentioned getting leave to go into town with some friends, but he didn't say what they did there. Instead he rambled on about wanting to find someone to love. His writing started out bad, and by the end I could barely read it, which is almost unheard of for Edward._

_The longer he rambled, the more scared I became. For the first time he seemed to really regret his decision to enlist. The thing that terrified me the most was the last line. He said, 'Rosie, if I die over here in this godforsaken hell-hole, promise me that you'll never forget me.'_

_That was it. No other explanation. It's like he's given up._

_March 13, 1918_

_Father forgot his lunch today. I was thrilled to take it to him just so that I could get out of this prison of a house. The weather had finally let up and the sidewalks were sloppy but passable. Still, it took me twice as long as usual to make my way to the factory._

_I didn't get so much as a thank you from Father for bringing him a hot lunch, not that I expected it. He just grabbed it and sent me on my way. I dallied on the way out, looking for Emmett, but I couldn't see any sign of him._

_Then, I had the great misfortune of stumbling upon Royce King. I say stumble because when he had the audacity to put a hand to my waist I pretended to trip and stomp the heel of my boot into his foot. Of course I apologized profusely, but it was so satisfying. Royce had no choice but to accept my apology as he hobbled to a bench past his snickering employees._

_He played the gentleman while we had an audience, but I could see the anger in his eyes. I hurried on my way as quickly as I could, but I still heard him cursing his workers as I rounded the corner of the exit hall._

_March 14, 1918_

_A note from Emmett! He passed it to Anne, who helps in the kitchen some days. I think he must have heard about my encounter with Royce because he begged me to stay away from him._

_He also sent me his love. How could I ever have doubted him? I hope he will forgive me. He said that he was so sorry for the long delay, but he is working on a plan. He wants to be secure with a home for me before we marry. I don't know how Father will react to our plans but given the number of times he's mentioned Royce King in my presence lately, I doubt he will take Emmett's suit seriously._

_And so, I wait while Emmett plans. At least we can communicate now. I've already sent a note back to him. I can be patient. I've waited so long, but I know we will find a way to be together._

_April 27, 1918_

_I received a letter from Edward today. It took eight weeks to reach me. He wrote today to say that his unit has reached the front line. They face shelling and gas, and …_

_I can't even write the word._

_How much of a coward am I that I can't even write the word when Edward is facing it every day._

_DEATH_

_He actually had a close friend get killed the day before he wrote. He saw the lifeless body. I can't imagine seeing such a thing. The worst part is that he wrote about it in such a casual way as if it was nothing. It must be killing him inside. My heart breaks for him._

_Worse than that, I now have this ball of fear resting in the pit of my stomach. It's been there ever since he enlisted, but every day it grows bigger and bigger until I wonder how I can possibly carry it around with me anymore. My greatest fear is that Edward is already gone._

_Eight weeks!_

_How many battles has he seen? How many canisters of poisoned gas have been lobbed into the trenches? How many more of his friends have died in that time? Is he even still alive?_

_I have to believe he is. It's the only way I can get through each endless day of this miserable spring._

_May 15, 1918_

_Edward is injured! We don't know how badly, or even if he is still alive, given how slowly war news travels._

_We received no formal word. Father read his name on a casualty list in the morning paper. I'm surprised he was even looking since he had practically disowned him when he enlisted. Maybe his heart isn't made of stone after all._

_He cast the paper aside in a torrent of foul language and stomped out the door. Hastily I picked it up to see what had turned his temper so foul. The name, Edward Masen, leapt off the page at me. I was at once terrified, but then my heart had some hope. It was the injured list. Injured meant he was still alive, or had been when the list was published. I would hope and pray. There was nothing else I could do._

_Or so I thought. Mother swooned immediately on hearing the news. I caught her, and helped her to her room where she cried and fussed all day long. I couldn't leave her side. We had planned to spend the afternoon on Red Cross work, but even that distraction wasn't possible with Mother in such a state. Fortunately, she fell asleep early in the evening, allowing me to slip back to my room where I could be alone in my misery and fear._

_I'd been there for an hour when there was a knock on my door. It was Anne from the kitchen with another note. It had no words, just a time. Ten o'clock. I hugged her before she hurried back downstairs to finish cleaning up after supper._

_The clock moved terribly slowly for the next hour but finally it struck ten. I slipped down the back stairs, threw a shawl over my shoulders and snuck out the back door._

_Emmett was waiting for me in our alcove in the garden. I ran to him, flinging my arms around his neck. I could feel all the tension I had carried inside for the past four months come pouring out as he wrapped his arms around me tightly._

_I must have sobbed for twenty minutes. Emmett didn't say anything. He just held me tight. After I finally settled down, he led me to the stone bench. We sat and talked. He told me to keep faith that Edward would recover, and even gave me hope that he would be shipped home soon. My heart was so much lighter at the thought._

_Then I said, "I've missed you so much. Why did you stay away so long?"_

_"I thought it best if we didn't press our luck. If your father caught you sneaking out to see me he would never approve of us," he explained._

_I sighed. "You're probably right."_

_He shook his head. "It doesn't matter now. I don't think I can stay away from you anymore. I had almost forgotten how good you feel in my arms. That is something I won't ever let happen again." And then he kissed me._

**BPOV**

"You were injured?" I asked in shock as I looked up from the diary.

Edward and I had spent most of the day continuing our game of twenty questions with the twirling diamond as our primary means of communication, but after dinner he flipped open the diary, prodding me to continue reading.

-YES-

"Badly?"

-YES-

"But it didn't kill you. The date of your death was later in the fall."

-YES-

"But where? How badly? Ugh!" I cried, frustrated with our slow method of communicating. I could either skim ahead in the diary to see what clues Rose may have written down, or I could keep up my less than productive questioning of Edward. Neither would get me the details I needed.

I stood up and strode into the kitchen where I dumped an entire canister of flour onto the table. With one hand I leveled it and wrote, 'Edward?' in the dust with my finger.

I watched patiently as a series of letters emerged and when I read what he wrote I couldn't help but smile.

'Bella?'

I clapped my hands in glee before pulling up a chair and settling in for a long conversation.

"So where were we?" I wondered aloud. "Can you tell me how badly you were injured?"

'Shrapnel, leg and back,' he replied.

'Couldn't walk for weeks.'

"Oh my gosh!" I replied, stunned. "You could have been killed."

'Kid next to me wasn't so lucky.'

My breath caught in my chest. What did you say to someone who lived through an ordeal like that?

"I can't even imagine how horrible that must have been. I wish I could have been there for you. I wish I could hug you now," I said impulsively.

Instead of writing, he drew an outline in the flour. It was the faces of a man and a woman, drawn with their eyes closed, their foreheads and noses touching. I closed my eyes, and dropped my head forward imagining it was us.

When I opened my eyes, he had written, 'You feel it too.'

I hummed in agreement.

Edward and I were having a great time getting acquainted with each other. Once he could answer with words he had turned out to be a bit of a flirt, something not possible when you are stuck with a vocabulary of yes and no.

I had tried to get an answer out of him on why he had written that rambling letter to Rose. He pretended not to remember and I decided not to press him on it. I was about to ask more about his childhood when the doorbell rang.

I'm not sure what I expected when I opened the door. Really, I should have learned from our first encounter to expect the unexpected with Alice. I'd met Alice the gardener, Alice the psychic, Alice the friend, not to mention Alice the soul mate of my step-brother. What I found at the door was Alice the…

Elf?

Pixie?

Fairy?

Whatever she was, two things were clear. She took this evening's outing very seriously, and I was underdressed in comparison. She had obviously gone through a lot of effort to prepare for the evening, but I wasn't sure I wanted to know why.

Her tiny blouse looked like it was made of rags carefully torn and pieced back together in a patchwork of vibrant earthen shades of rust and gold with just a narrow band of skin visible at her waist. Low on her hips sat a skirt made of unfinished fabric swatches that swayed as she walked, giving a glimpse of her long legs beneath it.

In her hair she wore a simple silver circlet with a teardrop of amber that hung in the center of her forehead. Her dark brown hair had been smoothed down with gel. It curved over her ears to finish at two points near her chin. It made me wonder if she wasn't trying to hide a set of pointy ears.

Her eyes were outlined in iridescent apple green eye shadow. If I hadn't seen her, I would never have imagined that anyone could pull off such a look. On Alice it was mesmerizing.

"Wow, Alice, you look…great," I said hoping that was a good enough word to match the effort she put into her attire. There was really no way to sum up how Alice looked in just one word.

"Thanks," she replied offhandedly as if this was nothing out of the ordinary for her. "Are you ready to go?" She was bouncing on her feet and I could hear the urgency in her voice.

Go? I suddenly remembered that we had made plans for tonight. For a second I thought of canceling so that I could continue my conversation with Edward, but I couldn't do that to Alice. She was obviously excited about the evening, and I would never brush off one friend for another. Edward would understand.

"Um, why do you have a pound of flour scattered on your table?" she asked, eyeing the mess Edward and I had created while tapping her foot impatiently.

Before I could think of an appropriate excuse, she got tired of waiting. "Oh, never mind! What are you waiting for! Let's go!"

"One minute, let me grab my wallet." I didn't want to drag around a purse, but I had no idea what we were in for tonight. If my body was going to be found decaying on the forest floor somewhere, I was determined to have ID on me.

As I ran upstairs to find my wallet I whispered to Edward what she had told me, which I realized wasn't much. "You'll come with me?" I asked as I dashed back down into the living room.

The ring swung in a small circle, and I breathed a sigh of relief in the knowledge that he would be there by my side.

"I'm ready. Let's go."

She hesitated, eyeing my outfit. "Um, do you have anything earthier to wear?"

"Earthier? I'm wearing one hundred percent cotton. Besides, my fairy elf costume is at the dry cleaners," I said with a straight face.

Alice rolled her eyes at my sarcasm and grabbed me by the hand to pull me out the door. "You'll do. Come on. I don't want to be late. And tonight, I'm a wood nymph."

"Wood nymph. Got it." She gave me the stink eye again but then climbed into her car.

I was a little bit nervous as I followed her. She had explained only briefly where we were going. I didn't understand most of what she said, but I gathered there would be a bonfire, dancing and some sort of cleansing ceremony. I didn't see the point in it all, but given my recent realization that ghosts were real and that one was actually haunting my home, I was completely on edge.

To my surprise it only took us a few minutes to reach a road with a small sign for the Ravenwood Campground. It was on a small country road, and easy to miss if you didn't know where you were going. We pulled through the gate and followed the driveway through the woods. The sun was about a half hour from setting, but the dense trees blocked most of its rays making it appear much darker.

We emerged abruptly into a vast field full of cars where traffic was directed by several people dressed in costumes even more outlandish than Alice's.

It was the most eclectic mix of vehicles I had ever seen. We parked next to a VW bus adorned with rainbows and peace signs, but on the other side of it was what looked like a brand new Mercedes Benz.

It brought to mind Don Henley's words about a deadhead sticker on a Cadillac. I was afraid to look back for fear I would see something even scarier.

"So what exactly is going on tonight?" I asked as we walked down a narrow path lit by twinkling lanterns.

"It's the celebration of Procyon's Ascent. Procyon is one of the brightest stars in the summer sky. The revelers gather tonight to celebrate Procyon's ascent into the sky in the hope that it will foreshadow wealth and good fortune for the coming year."

"I thought you said there would be a bonfire," I said, trying to ferret out some meaningful details.

"Yes, a bonfire and dancing."

"Wait, we don't have to dance, do we?" I asked in a slight panic.

"No. I will, but you can sit and watch." She practically dragged me up the tree lined path. "Hurry! I want to talk to Laurent before the ceremony begins."

The path opened suddenly into a vast field with a huge pile of wood in the center. At least five hundred people had already gathered. There was a real sense of excitement in the air as they staked out their viewing spots a safe distance from the bonfire, and greeted friends that they obviously hadn't seen in a quite a while.

Some were dressed like me in shorts and t-shirts while others were dressed as forest creatures or fey folk like Alice. Some outfits were quite reveling, and a few went well beyond my comfort zone.

"Alice, is that man naked?" I asked in a panic.

"Bella!" she whispered sharply. "It's impolite to stare! And yes, he's naked. Clothing is sort of optional around here," she added as if it were no big deal.

I looked down at the ground quickly. At least in the dim light nobody could see the blood rush to my cheeks.

"What kind of place did you drag me to?" I hissed.

"Trust me, Bella. It's fine. It's meant to be a place where people with alternative views can be free to express themselves."

"By running around naked?"

"In some cases, yes. But don't worry. I've brought you here to meet my friend Laurent. And I promise you that he will be fully clothed."

"That makes me feel much better."

Alice ignored me. "Laurent!" she called, waving to someone across the field.

I hurried after her to a large tent with open sides set up on the fringe of the gathering area. A large Africa-American man lounged underneath in a plastic Adirondack chair. At Alice's call he sprang from his seat just in time to catch her in his arms. After a long hug he stood her lightly on the ground and eyeing her up from head to toe said, "Miss Alice, it's been far too long."

"It has been too long," she agreed. "I haven't seen you since last summer's festival. Where have you been?"

"On a bit of a sabbatical. One never runs out of things to learn. And you? A wood nymph I presume?" he asked, eyeing her up from head to toe.

"Yes! At least someone knows their forest folk," she said turning and giving me a mean look again.

"Ah, this must be the friend that you wrote me about," he said as he reached out and took my hand in both of his.

"Yes, Laurent, this is my friend Bella. Bella, this is Doctor Laurent Girard. I've asked him if he can perform an aura cleansing on you later tonight."

I still had no idea what an aura cleansing entailed, and I was pretty sure I didn't want to know.

I hastily snatched my hand back from him. "A what?" I asked.

Laurent bellowed with laughter, his dreadlocks shaking with mirth.

"An aura cleansing," Alice pronounced carefully as if she were talking to a five year old. "You see, Laurent, her aura is terribly cloudy, and her energy is all bottled up. And then there is this spot over here that seems like it detached itself," she said pointing over my left shoulder.

"Well I don't know about that," said Laurent absentmindedly as his eyes swept in an arc around the outline of my body. "You know I see it differently than you do, Alice, and apparently not in as great of detail," he conceded with a bit of envy coloring his voice. "But I think it won't be a problem. The ceremony I have in mind should clean her up nicely."

"Alice, I really don't think this is a good idea," I said taking a step back.

"Don't worry. You won't feel a thing," she assured me.

"Yes, my dear. Alice is right. There is nothing to fear from an aura cleansing. I promise you won't be made to do anything you don't want to do. It's a simple ceremony to rid you of the negative energy that you have collected, and let the positive energy flow through you as it were meant to."

I was still not sure about this, but Laurent's calm confidence was slowly winning me over. I mean, what could it hurt?

"Laurent, you are a doctor? I've never met a doctor who talked in terms of energy and auras."

"I am a Doctor of Osteopathic Medicine. It is similar to the more common M.D. degree. I can treat illness, prescribe drugs, and even perform some forms of surgery just like any other physician you've met. The key difference is that the schools of Osteopathic Medicine seek to treat the entire patient not just the symptom that presents itself. We are much more open to incorporating alternative forms of therapy and seek a well-rounded course of treatment."

"So they taught you to cleanse auras in medical school?"

He laughed heartily. "No, that I learned from my Grandmother. She was a Voodoo Queen from New Orleans. I spent many a summer evening at her knee learning her magic."

"She sounds…nice. I mean, it sounds like you loved her very much." His was a world I couldn't hope to comprehend.

"Nice is not the word I would use to describe her. More like terrifying." My eyes got wide at the word causing him to laugh again.

"Some said she could scare the evil right out of you, but in me she saw a promising pupil. I was the only one out of her eight children and twenty-six grandchildren to have the gift. My mother didn't like the idea of me learning the magic, but Marie Droulilard said it was to be, and even her daughter wouldn't go against her will." He was a real live witchdoctor!

"So you grew up in New Orleans? That's a long way from here," I observed.

Laurent sighed. "There are some days I miss New Orleans with all my soul, but one must pay the bills and Buffalo was my best option."

"Now, Alice, if you want to participate in the dancing, I suggest you go and find the other wood nymphs. I'll take care of Bella until it is time."

She turned to me. "Are you sure? I know this is a little overwhelming." I looked around at the throng of excited strangers in every variation of costume I could imagine. It was overwhelming, but then, a sense of peace overcame me. Edward was with me as well.

Alice danced from foot to foot in anticipation.

"Go," I told her with a reassuring smile. "I'll be fine."

"Thanks, Bella." She hugged me quickly and disappeared into the throng of people.

I thought Laurent would lead me into the crowd as well, but instead we climbed a small hill at the edge of the field and stopped at a blanket spread half way up on the ground. The sun had set, and stars were beginning to twinkle in the night sky.

"Have a seat. We'll see the festivities better from up here," he said.

I made myself comfortable on a corner of the blanket. "I've never been here before, and Alice wasn't exactly forthcoming with details. What is going on tonight?"

"There are many heavenly bodies that signal changes in the seasons, the years, and even millennia. Tonight is the annual celebration of the rise of Procyon. It is the brightest star in the constellation Canis Minor, and the seventh brightest star in the night sky. You won't be able to see it once the bonfire is lit, but for now watch. In a moment it will rise just over that hillside."

As I watched the spot on the horizon I asked, "What's so special about it?"

"For those who practice Astrology, Procyon is a harbinger of good fortune. They celebrate in the hope that some of that good fortune will be returned to themselves.

"They?"

He smirked. "Yes, well, I've personally never found much use in Astrology. Maybe there's nothing to it, or maybe my gifts leave me blind in that area. I come because at a gathering like this there are always some who are in need of the kind of magic I do possess. And occasionally they need a plain old doctor as well."

We waited in silence for a few minutes. A hush fell on the gathering field as well, with everyone watching the same point in the sky. All the lights had been doused so that everyone could clearly see the stars. Silently, Laurent pointed his finger to a spot on the horizon where I could see a new star appearing. Our vantage point on the hill gave us a slight advantage, but it wasn't long before a drum began to beat.

Pum.

Pum.

Pum.

It was joined by another, and another until an entire drum line was tapping out that steady beat.

Pum.

Pum.

Pum.

Soon the entire audience was clapping in time with the beat. Suddenly a flame appeared on the field. It was a lone figure with a torch held high for all to see.

A loud voice called out, "Children of the planet Earth, we gather tonight to celebrate Procyon's ascent! I call to the ancient spirits of the air, to serve and protect me as I serve and honor you. Witness and bless all who form this circle.

The crowd chanted, "Air! Air! Air! Air!"

The figure moved a quarter of the way around the fire mound and shouted again, "I call to the spirits of earth, who provide sustenance and shelter. Witness and bless all who form this circle."

"Earth! Earth! Earth! Earth!"

Again the figure moved, and exclaimed, "I call to the spirits of the water that cleanses and purifies our bodies. Cleanse too the hearts and souls of all who form this circle."

"Water! Water! Water! Water!" the crowd chanted again

The figure moved to the final position. "I call to the spirits of fire, that most destructive force of nature. Clear away the obstacles in our spiritual path so that we may continue our journey unencumbered."

"Fire! Fire! Fire! Fire!" chanted the crowd.

The tension built in a mighty crescendo, but the voice still overpowered it. "Revelers, I give you Procyon's Ascent!"

He held the torch to the base of the bonfire pyramid. The fuel-doused structure caught instantly, and in seconds had become a blazing inferno.

The crowd went wild. I thought that was the end of the ceremony, but it had only just begun.

A band of musicians struck up what sounded like a Celtic tune as several other torch bearers joined the first around the bonfire. He held out his flame to each in turn. One at a time they danced away with a piece of the fire until they had the central bonfire surrounded in swirling flames. One swung a torch in each hand, while another twirled and tossed a double ended baton. A third man had a sheet of flame that he swirled and snapped like a wet towel.

The revelry felt so foreign to me, but it was still difficult not to be swept up in it.

As the individual flames died, a stream of dancers took their place. Many, like Alice, were dressed as wood nymphs, while others resembled a cross between mythical and woodland animals. Their performance didn't have the sheer bravery of the flame twirlers, but they made up for it in enthusiasm. I almost envied Alice as she spun on the field in ecstasy.

One by one, each of the animal dancers shed their costumes and tossed them onto the flames. They must have been made of paper, because they were completely swallowed by the inferno in moments.

The final offering was the effigy of a thunderbird. When it landed on the fire flames shot twenty feet into the air. The crowd roared in appreciation, signaling the end of the ceremony.

I was just about to suggest that we find Alice when Laurent tapped me on the shoulder and said, "Come, it is time."

**EPOV**

Bella was nervous. I could see it in her eyes, but even more so, I could feel it ripple through that bond of energy we shared.

Neither Bella nor I understood what Alice was hoping to accomplish with this cleansing ritual. Was I the blemish she sought to remove from Bella's soul? What would happen if she did? If I wasn't tied to Bella, would I just fade out of existence? I would have no reason to cling to this world if not for her.

The last thing I wanted to be was a drain on Bella's life force, but so far I didn't think it hurt her. She seemed to welcome my presence.

I followed them as they wound their way back to the tent.

Alice was waiting impatiently for their return.

"Did you enjoy it?" she asked with excitement bubbling forth. "It was so much better than last year's ceremony. The fire dancers were astounding! Oh, Bella, you're going to have to come out and dance with us next year."

Bella's eyes grew wide at the suggestion, but Alice didn't notice.

"They were truly fantastic, but you, Miss Alice, were the best of them all," said Laurent.

Alice beamed.

"Now, are you ready to begin?"

Alice's demeanor instantly changed to a look of serious determination.

"What can I do to help?" she asked.

"Help Miss Bella make herself comfortable on the mat next to the fire while I retrieve a few things."

Bella followed Alice to a small campfire just outside the tent, and the two of them sat on woven mats on the ground.

"I should warn you, a little voice inside my head is telling me to run while I can," Bella said ominously.

Alice laughed. "Don't even think it. You'd never find the car in the darkness." She sighed. "I don't know why you're so worried. Believe me. You'll feel like a million dollars when we're done."

Bella didn't respond, but stared into the fire intently for a moment. I thought those were the only words she would say, but then she closed her eyes, and holding her hand over her chest, she whispered to me, "Stay with me," as if I would be anywhere other than at her side.

"What was that?" Alice asked.

"Nothing. I'm ready."

Laurent joined them a moment later.

"Shall we proceed?" he asked.

Bella only nodded.

"Alice, as Bella's friend, I'm going to ask you to join hands with her. During each step in the ritual, I'm going to ask her to envision the cleansing action. I want you to do the same. You have a powerful gift. It will intensify the effect."

Alice scoffed, and Laurent grew angry.

"I've warned you before, Alice, do not underestimate your gift or it will get the better of you," he warned in a cold, steely voice.

"You're right. I'm sorry."

"Now, tonight's ceremony began with a call to the spirits of each of the four elements. I'm going to do the same, and ask that they direct their cleansing powers to remove the darkness from your aura and let its light shine through."

Bella again said nothing, but watched him intently. Laurent was sitting on Bella's right, opposite from Alice. In front of him were three small jars and a short stick. I couldn't even guess at their purpose.

He stared deep into the heart of the fire. "First we shall call on the spirit of earth. Earth is used for many things. Today we take it in its rough broken form, and use it to scour the worst of the dirt away."

He reached into the first jar and pulled out a pinch of sand. He then took Bella's free hand and rubbed it into her palm as if to scrub it raw.

"As the sand scours the worst of the blackness from your skin, I call on the spirit of the earth to scour the blackness from your aura, and loosen the grime so that the light may shine through."

Alice had her eyes closed and was concentrating intently. Bella said nothing, but her eyes followed Laurent's every move.

"Next we shall call on the spirit of water. We all know the cleansing power of water to wash away filth and leave only the good behind."  
He held up the next jar and poured a stream of water over Bella's palm washing away the sand.

"As this water washes the filth from your skin, so may the spirit of water remove it from your aura."

I don't know if Bella could feel the effects of the ritual, but I could. It was as if she was surrounded by a wall, with bits of energy leaking out to me through cracks between the planks. With each step, parts of the wall began to weaken letting more of the energy flow freely.

"We don't often think of the cleansing power of fire, but it is one of the most powerful forces in our world. Fire can reduce a structure or a field or a forest to mere cinders in a matter of moments. We call on the spirit of fire to consume the remaining obstructions and leave behind only ash."

He dipped his fingers in the third jar, pulled out a pinch of powder and threw it into the campfire. Instantly the flames shot into the air, and both Alice and Bella jumped back to avoid being singed by the heat.

Laurent smirked at their reaction, but kept going as they both settled back onto their mats.

I could sense that the wall around Bella had indeed been reduced to cinders and only awaited the slightest disturbance before it would fall away. Her life force pulsed as if ready to break free.

"Finally we call on the spirit of the air. Just as a slight breeze will carry away a fallen leaf, a mighty tornado will carry off anything in its path. May the spirit of the air cleanse the remaining cinders clouding Bella's aura and leave behind only the pure energy as was always meant to be."

He picked the stick and with a snap of his wrist unfurled a small wooden fan. With a sweep of his arm he blew Bella's hair back from her shoulders. It settled for a moment, and he and Alice watched her intently.

Suddenly, an invisible force swept through the campsite. Just as Laurent had described, it carried with it the remaining ashes from Bella's aura. Her life force poured forth in a tidal wave, and my poor starving soul soaked it in like a sponge. I felt potent and strong. Where I had struggled to play Bella's piano, I now felt as if I could now play a symphony of instruments. It was beyond anything I had ever experienced.

"There, Alice, you see? I told you she would be spectacular." Laurent gazed at her admiringly.

Alice's eyes were glowing in wonder, but then, unbelievably they locked with mine. They flashed with recognition before narrowing into a line of anger.

* * *

**Author's note:**

I feel like I'm always apologizing for the length of time it takes to get each chapter. Unfortunately I don't see things speeding up too much, but I will try. Thanks for sticking with me. Your reviews make it all worthwhile.

Is there anything more you would like to know about Edward?


	14. Chapter 14: Emotions

Disclaimer: Twilight is owned by Stephenie Meyer. I am only borrowing a few of her characters. The remainder of the story is my own. No reproduction is permitted without my written consent.

* * *

**Chapter 14 Emotions**

Diary of Rosalie Masen:

May 27, 1918

Father finally received a letter informing him of Edward's injury. He was hit in the leg and is recovering in a hospital in London. There is no word on how severe the injury is, but it must be bad for the army to evacuate him from France. He was injured on March 6, and the letter was dated a week later, postmarked London. The Germans have severely disrupted shipping between Europe and America. When you think of all the lives taken losing mail is a minor consequence.

So now we know he was clinging to life as of mid-March. I'll take what comfort I can from it. Emmett will help me with that. He's coming 'round again this evening.

June 3, 1918

James is engaged to Victoria Cartwright. They announced it to the family last night at dinner. Father and Mother are overjoyed. Of course she comes from one of the finest families in town. That must be the draw. She is beautiful, but I've never met a more snobbish, spoiled girl in my life. I hope they are happy together.

June 16, 1918

We had a dinner party tonight to celebrate the engagement. Victoria's parents were the special guests. It would have been bearable if not for the last minute addition that Father insisted on including.

Royce King.

Yes, I had to spend the entire evening sitting next to the one person in this world I detest more than any other. He was a perfect gentleman, thank God! He would have to be under the watchful eye of my parents. Still, every so often I would catch a smug look on my father's face as he glanced at us. I can see the plans forming in his head and I don't like them one bit.

June 17, 1918

Emmett just left. He was furious when I met him tonight. Apparently Father has given Royce permission to court me, something he neglected to tell me. He said Royce was rather obnoxious about it at the factory today. I told him Royce was just trying to get a reaction out of him and to ignore it. Royce isn't the one I kiss goodnight each evening.

There is still no further word regarding Edward. I guess it's a good thing. They say that news of death is the only news that travels reliably, but that is poor comfort.

June 23, 1918

What a night! I had to spend the entire evening in the sitting room having polite conversation with Royce King. It was awful. I thought the night would never end. Finally he got up to go at Mother's hint that it was getting late. I tried to flee, but that would have been impolite. I had to see him to the door and let him kiss my hand as he left. I went immediately to the kitchen and scoured it in the dish water. Emmett will be angry again.

June 25, 1918

He's back! Edward came home tonight! I'm so happy that it's hard not to cry. The tears would smear my ink.

I was outside waiting for Emmett to arrive when I heard a truck pull up around the front. Curiosity got the better of me, so I snuck up along the side of the house to see who it was. My heart was on edge because I expected Emmett any minute and didn't want to our tryst to be interrupted.

A figure slid off the tailgate on the back and stumbled. My breath caught in my chest when I heard Emmett's voice say, "Hey, let me help you there." It was a dark night. The moon and stars were hidden by a layer of clouds. I could just barely make out Emmett's shape as he helped the other man with his bag and cane.

"Thanks. I'm not getting around so well anymore," said the man from the truck. My heart knew who it was before my mind could register. I stepped out from my hiding place next to the house and stared in disbelief at my brother, Edward.

Emmett picked up Edward's bag and waved the truck away.

"I sure am glad to see you alive and well. Rosie's been worried sick. The family had heard you were injured, but then there was no word for weeks."

The months away hadn't been kind to him. His uniform that looked so smart in his picture now hung loosely on his frame. He limped heavily, wincing each time he put weight on his right leg. Seeing him in pain spurred me to action. I tore across the front lawn and threw my arms around his neck.

"Edward, you're back," I sobbed.

He caught me up with his free hand and pulled me tightly to him.

"It's okay, Rosie, I'm home now. I'm fine," he said.

We just stood there in the street holding each other for minutes until I was able to pull myself together. When I finally pulled away I wasn't the only one drying my eyes.

Edward stepped back to look at me from head to toe. "I missed you so much Rosie, and now look at you. I left a girl and I've come back to find a woman." I blushed at his observation while Emmett smirked.

"Never mind me, what happened to you? We knew you were injured, but haven't heard anything else for weeks," I cried.

"Rosie, at least let the man get inside before you give him the third degree," Emmett insisted.

"Sorry! He's right. You must be exhausted from traveling," I said, taking his arm as he made his way across the street.

"Yeah, there were a few times I thought I'd never make it home," Edward tried to joke, but it fell flat. I didn't ask him to explain. There would be plenty of time for that now that he was back.

"Here, let me help him up the stairs," Emmett said, pulling me away from Edward. "Rose, you sneak back in the back door. Open it when he knocks, and try to act surprised."

"Edward," he continued, "it's great to see you back in one piece, but I need to make myself scarce. I'll be by to see you later this week."

"You're going?" I asked. I still wasn't thinking straight with the shock of Edward turning up out of the blue.

Emmett put his arm around my waist and pulled me to him. "You need to take care of your brother tonight. We'll try again tomorrow, okay, Baby?" He planted a kiss on my cheek as Edward watched with interest.

"Yes, you're right. I'll see you tomorrow." I hugged him quickly and let him go.

With one last glance at the two of them I hurried back around to the back door ignoring Edward's unasked questions. Emmett seemed to trust him, so I would too. There would be time for explanations later. The door was open as I left it. I quickly hung up my shawl and rushed up the back stairs to my bedroom.

He knocked just as I was walking down the front stairs. I peeked out the window to make sure Emmett was gone. When I was sure all was clear I flung the door open, screaming "Edward! You're back. Mother, Father, Edward is home!"

I was pleased to see that familiar childhood smirk of amusement on his face, no doubt due to my newfound acting ability. I'd had plenty of opportunities to perfect it over the past year after all.

The family was roused quickly by my outburst. Mother could hardly believe her eyes, but she didn't hesitate to pull a stumbling Edward in the door and wrap her arms around him.

Even Father was moved. He clasped Edward's hand tightly, before gaining his composure. Soon Mother had Edward nestled in the sitting room while we gathered around to hear his story. He gave us a brief description of his injuries, which to my horror included swallowing a bit of poison gas, and glossed over his recovery time in the hospital. He apologized again for not getting word to us, but we wouldn't hear of it. We were all glad to have him home safely.

Soon, he expressed his desire to spend the night in his own bed. I helped him carefully maneuver himself up the stars, but halfway up, he turned and shot me a glance promising more questions tomorrow about my situation with Emmett.

He may not like it, but his baby sister has grown up. Emmett trusts him. I will too.

**BPOV:**

"It must have been wonderful to be home after everything you had gone through."

Edward made no reply. I was sitting outside on a blanket in the back yard, soaking up the morning sun. I had gone home in a daze after the ceremony the previous evening, falling asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow. But I slept better than I had since I was a child and woke up feeling like the new life I was searching for was at least a possibility.

As for Edward, I can't say he was sitting with me, but I knew he was nearby as always. I had been afraid that Alice's ceremony was meant to drive him away, but he was there the minute I woke up.

"Edward?" I asked.

A wave of green coasted through the blades of grass indicating that he heard me. The answer must have been more complex than he could express.

'Yes, but…' I caught my breath as the letters rippled through the grass just like Edward's melodies had rolled from the piano.

'Bittersweet,' he concluded.

I waved my hand across the tips of the grass, amazed once again at his ability to communicate.

"Why was it bittersweet?" I asked.

'So much had changed.'

"You mean Rose?"

'Rose, my family, me; like strangers.'

'War was…horrible.' It was such a simple word written there in the grass, but I couldn't imagine what had driven him to feel that way. Rose certainly hadn't known any more than she shared. I thought of his injuries, being shot in the leg, inhaling poison gas, I didn't know which was worse, but both must have been terrifying.

Edward continued unaware of my thoughts.

As Edward's thoughts poured forth the grass rippled in effortless waves. I had to concentrate to pick out each word as they didn't linger for more than a moment.

'Memories of my childhood with Rosie and James carried me through the darkest times.'

'When I came home everything had changed. James was engaged. Rosie had grown up. My father had given up trying to control her and was intent on marrying her off to the highest bidder.'

'She was in love. I knew the moment I saw her. I was so happy for her, but…'

"But what?" I asked. For the first time I had been given a glimpse into Edward's point of view. His was the story I really wanted to read. Rose was fascinating in her own right, but Edward was an enigma.

'Jealous.'

"I don't understand. Why were you jealous of Rose?"

'She had everything I never knew I wanted. I barely made it out of France alive. I came home broken. Even then I knew I'd never walk unassisted again. Rose was so tall and beautiful, and full of life! I had that once and I threw it away to go chasing a dream that turned into a nightmare.'

"But you came home. You were still alive. You could make a fresh start," I insisted.

'I didn't see it that way at the time. I thought I was coming back to the life I had left. The moment I saw Rose and Emmett together I knew it wouldn't be long before they were married and she would be gone. She wouldn't let Father's disapproval stand in her way. I was so happy for her, but I saw myself trapped in my childhood home under the constant censure of my father. The thought of finding a wife and having a family was lost to me.'

"But I'm sure after some time," I started, but Edward's response was swift.

'I was broken! What woman would want me?' The words appeared as if whipped into position by a stiff breeze. The suddenness of it made me flinch.

"I would!" I shouted without thinking. My hand flew to my mouth when I realized what I had just said, but it was too late. My admission was out there. I wasn't even sure why I was afraid to acknowledge it. Maybe I was afraid that I was so broken that even a ghost of a man wouldn't want me. "I would," I whispered again.

'You flatter me.'

"I mean it, Edward. You don't see yourself clearly. You are smart and kind, caring and loyal, not to mention easy on the eyes," I added looking at his picture. "Who cares if you walk with a cane? If I had met a man like you when I was younger, instead of, well, it doesn't matter." I wasn't ready to go down that path yet.

'You use the present tense. I'm even less than that now. I see now that I should have appreciated what I did have, but I can't change it. The funny thing is that I think I am happier now. Happier plus a hundred other emotions both good and bad, even though the only thing I can do now is cling to…' His last word was lost in the ruffle of the breeze.

"It's so hard to read about it when there is nothing I can do to comfort you. You sound so sad. I wish more than anything that I could go back in time and just give you a hug. Heck, I'd like to give you one right now."

I never thought I would want to be close to another man again. I had kept all men at an arm's length, with the exception of that one night that I went dancing with Jasper and Alice. But dancing with Anthony that night was a fluke that I blamed on the alcohol. Even then I had imagined myself dancing with Edward. He had already captured my imagination. What would I have done had I known that he was present?

Edward couldn't read my mind. He interrupted my drifting thoughts. 'There is nothing I want more than to feel your arms around me. It is pure torture sometimes, not to be able to touch you.'

"But why can't you touch me?" I asked. "I mean, you can move objects, play the piano, sway individual blades of grass. Have you tried?" The thought of just the smallest caress on my body made my heart thump in my chest.

Edward didn't answer.

"Please, take my hand," I asked gently.

'No.'

"Why not?" I didn't understand his hesitation.

'I'm afraid.'

"There's nothing to be afraid of. I trust you." I would have trusted him with my life at this point.

'I don't trust myself.'

"I've seen how gentle you can be. You won't hurt me," I insisted.

'That's not it.'

"Then what?" I demanded again, getting a little exasperated.

'I'm afraid that I will use too much force and hurt you! I'm afraid that I'll touch you, but won't be able to feel you and it will finally drive me insane! I'm afraid that it'll feel so good that I won't be able to stop!'

The letters flew so quickly I could barely read them. His silent outburst left me stunned, yet wondering if I had really seen those words that still echoed in my mind.

I didn't know what to say. Edward had obviously thought a lot about me, about us. Our harmless flirting the day before had led me to feel closer to him than any other man I had ever met, but the intensity of his emotions scared me a bit. Yet the flame inside me had been ignited long ago on that night when I had gone to bed alone and touched myself while thinking of Edward. His words were fresh fuel for the fire I felt burning in my chest, burning for him.

I realized that he had been holding back his own feelings from me, and now more than anything I wanted to know just what he felt.

A thought raced through my mind. I didn't know if it was a flicker of a memory or pure imagination, but in that instant, I knew how good Edward's touch would feel. Just the thought of his fingertip on my skin gave me goose bumps. How wonderful would it feel to have his arms wrapped around me?

But what could I say to him? Our relationship was already beyond impossible. It would have been torture for us to consider taking it into the physical realm. I thought that after Jake, I wouldn't want another man to touch me ever again. I was only just beginning to see how much I was missing.

Before I could form a reply a horn sounded from a passing car, startling me out of my thoughts and back into the present. Alice's car pulled into the driveway.

I gathered up the diary and blanket and met her at the door. Edward and I would have to continue our discussion later.

"Hey, Bella, how are you feeling this morning?" she asked hesitantly as she stood from the car.

I thought for a moment before replying, "Refreshed."

"Can we talk a little about what happened last night?"

"Sure, come on in the house."

Alice followed me into the kitchen and sat down at the table. She looked like a completely different person from the wood nymph who had turned up on my doorstep the day before. Instead of impatient and excited she was tentative and quiet, as if she was trying to apologize for something, but couldn't find the words.

"Can I get you something to drink?"

"No thanks."

I poured myself a glass of water and sat down opposite her at the table. Neither of us said anything at first, and I wasn't quite sure why she was here. Finally I couldn't take the silence any more.

"So that was some event last night. I don't think I've ever seen anything like it," I said.

An amused expression passed over her face. "It was, wasn't it? You'll have to dance with us next time."

"I think I'll stick to the audience, thanks. Though, the second part wasn't too bad. I just had to sit there for that one," I said, remembering the aura cleansing ceremony of the night before.

The concerned look reappeared on Alice's face. "That's what I wanted to talk to you about. I'm worried about you. Do you understand what happened last night?"

I hesitated for a moment. "Not completely." Though, I probably understood some things that Alice did not.

"The rite Laurent performed was not something he normally does at the midsummer festival. I asked him for help understanding why your aura is not all in one piece."

"You explained that yesterday. You said a piece was detached."

"Yes, but yesterday, I was looking for an answer to an interesting question. Today, I'm just worried about you. How do I put this?" I waited patiently as she gathered her thoughts.

"We're friends, right?" she asked as if she wasn't completely sure.

"Of course," I agreed.

"Then as your friend, I'm looking out for you. I'm afraid you've put your heart out there and its going to get hurt."

My heart thumped hard. She was probably right. This relationship with Edward could never go anywhere beyond a strange friendship, but I had tried the traditional love and marriage route and it hadn't worked out for me. In fact it had almost destroyed me. My relationship with Edward made me happier than I had been in a very long time and I wasn't going to give it up. I had no idea how long it would last, or under what circumstances, but I would treasure every minute for as long as I could.

Alice waited nervously while I processed what she had said.

"Alice, I think you're the best friend I've ever had." At my words her tension melted away and she jumped up and hugged me.

"I know," she squealed. "I feel the same. It's like I've found a kindred spirit that I can tell anything."

I wrapped my arms around her and hugged her back tightly. I was near tears myself at her emotional display, but I managed to blink them back. Finally I got her settled back in her chair.

"I've never had a best friend before, so you'll have to be patient with me."

"You'll be perfect. I'm so excited! But you know that's why I'm so worried about you. I know you have feelings for Anthony, I just want you to be careful."

"Wait, Anthony? You've lost me."

"When Laurent blew away the ashes from your aura, the energy poured forth from your being as if a super nova was unleashed inside of you. But there's this piece of your aura that's sort of detached, yet hovering as if it knows it's a part of you but somehow got separated from the rest. When the energy was released I could see Anthony's face reflected in that bit of your aura." She paused, thinking hard.

"I've never really seen anything like it. Laurent hasn't either, although he doesn't see it the same way I do. He says my vision is crystal clear compared to his opaque window. The only thing I can think of is that you have formed some sort of attachment to Anthony. Bella, are you in love with him?"

In love with Anthony? I respected him, and felt sorry for him at times, but he was a little too distant to even consider a friend. A better question was, 'am I in love with Edward?' I couldn't think about that now. I needed to straighten Alice out before she jumped to any more conclusions or worse yet, told Jasper.

"Alice, that most certainly was not Anthony." Her eyes flickered up next to me then back to mine.

"I saw him. His face was plain as day." She gave me a critical look as if I was lying to her.

I took a deep breath. If I couldn't trust my new-age-hippy of a best friend with this then who could I trust?

"It was Edward."

"Edward? Edward who? Were you and I at the same bonfire?"

"It was Edward Masen. I think he is Anthony's great uncle." I watched as she did the mental math.

"But that would make him Grandma Rose's brother, Edward. He died in the first world war."

"Yes, in the fall of 1918. He's buried in the cemetery next to the house." I pointed in the general direction of Edward's resting place. You couldn't see it from the kitchen, but recognition dawned on Alice's face.

"The ceremony last night was supposed to illuminate your aura, and help to heal it if necessary. How is it that Uncle Edward is imprinted on your aura? I mean, are you sure it's him?"

I glanced around the room. So far Edward had given no sign of his presence. I wasn't quite sure whether that meant he wanted me to keep him a secret, or he trusted me to do what I thought was right. Either way, I knew he wouldn't be far.

"It's him, or his ghost, at least. He's been here with me for several weeks, but we've only been communicating for a few days."

"That's crazy!" Alice exclaimed.

Her reaction made me defensive. "Really? I don't expect general acceptance, but you seemed to know that there is more to this life than the world we can see. I thought you would understand."

"No! I didn't mean it that way. This is just so different from what I expected. I thought you had fallen for Anthony, and his asinine behavior was shredding the edges of your aura. Instead you're communing with a ghost? How did this happen?"

"I really don't know. For several days a lot of strange things were happening to me. I just put two and two together, and the answer clicked into place."

"Are you sure it's him? I mean it could be anyone."

"Alice, you said so yourself that he looked just like Anthony. Did your grandmother have a picture of him anywhere?" I should have gotten mine out, but I didn't want to give it up just yet.

"She did, and you're right. They could have been brothers," she said, remembering.

"But how do you know it's him and not some other long lost relative of mine. Anthony's actually pretty tame compared to a few of the others in my family tree."

"I don't know, Alice. I just believe him. He's sweet and kind, a true gentleman, but a bit of a flirt at times. You should hear him play the piano. He plays beautifully."

Her eyes clouded with tears. "That's just how Grandma Rose described him." Suddenly a look of hope popped into her eyes. "Do you think that Grandma Rose is still here waiting for me to find her?"

I sighed. "I don't know for sure, but I don't think so. Edward is the only one I've found. Besides, with your abilities, I would think you would know that answer better than I would."

Alice's whole being seemed to deflate. She couldn't help clinging to that small bit of hope that her last family member hadn't completely left her.

"You're right. I knew she was gone the moment it happened." She pulled a tissue from her purse to dab at her eyes. "I'm sorry for getting all fussy. This is just a lot to take in. I need to think about this for a while."

She stood and gathered her things.

"I know this is hard," I said as I pulled her into a hug, "but you have your new best friend. I'm here if you want to talk."

"That means so much to me, you have no idea," she said hugging me back tightly. "You're sure that you are okay?"

"I'm great. I hope you get a chance to get to know Edward. I think you would like him."

Alice promised she would be back soon.

I turned back to the diary. I probably should have told her about it, but she seemed too upset. It might be better to wait until she adjusted to the idea. Soon, I promised myself.

Edward was silent. I wasn't sure if he was angry at me for telling Alice about him, or if he just didn't want to pick up our conversation where we had left it.

Instead of pushing him, I picked up the diary and my laptop, and sat down to begin to transcribe the passages I had read that morning. The work could be tedious, so I had started pre-reading sections before I typed them up.

As I reread the passages, the same questions I'd had this morning flooded back to my mind.

"Edward, I would give anything to know what you're thinking right now," I told him. "There is so much I want to know and understand, so many questions that Rose doesn't even have the answers to."

The crystal spun from its string in agreement.

"Ugh!" I banged my hands on the keyboard in frustration. A row of nonsense letters appeared on the screen.

An idea formed in my head. "Edward, have you ever used a computer?" I asked.

There was no answer. I figured that he may not know how to answer.

"Of course you haven't. Let's see where to start. This is my computer. It has a keyboard with all the letters and numbers laid out the same as a typewriter. You've seen typewriters I assume?" He responded quickly with a yes.

"It runs on electricity. Honestly, I'm not really sure how it works, but it does a lot of interesting things. This program is one of the simplest. It's called a word processor. It works just like a typewriter, except that I can type words and instead of putting them directly on a piece of paper, they are stored inside the computer indefinitely. You can go back and make changes to what you've already written without retyping the entire page." I demonstrated typing and editing, in the hope that he was following along.

"I was thinking that since you can play the piano so well, maybe you could type on the laptop?"

There was no response.

"Go ahead and try," I encouraged him.

I watched patiently for a moment. The screen gave a flicker, then a letter 'B' appeared. A few seconds later I saw an 'E' followed quickly by 'LL'. The text on the screen rippled for a moment but when it cleared, a letter 'A' was visible.

I tensed. This wasn't working quite the way I thought it would. "Edward, I think…"

He continued with the letter 'I', but then the entire screen went blue and smoke began to rise from the keyboard. The entire thing flickered twice and then went dead.

"No, no, no!" I shouted at the worthless lump of plastic and silicone sitting on my table. Everything was on that computer. All my college work, the lesson plans I had prepared, email addresses for the few people from home with whom I had stayed in contact.

I flopped back on the chair with my eyes closed. "I guess that wasn't the greatest idea after all," I said to Edward.

"I hate to say it, but I think I'm going to have to call Mike Newton."

**EPOV:**

_Mike Newton! I may be overreacting, but there is no way I'm going to let that little bastard anywhere near my Bella!_

_I felt terrible for destroying her compu- whatever it was, but there had to be another way._

_Maybe I couldn't have her. I knew I didn't deserve her. Bella was like an ideal, a goddess put on earth to tempt men, knowing that if we ever did work up the courage to be with her she could destroy us in an instant. I hadn't done more than follow her from a distance for weeks, and already she had obliterated any other reason I'd ever had for living._

_I had been ready to confess everything to her. The truth was I loved her more than I had ever loved anyone before. Not even Rose, and certainly not in the same way as Rose. Bella had awakened feelings inside of me that I never felt before. I wanted to spend my life with her, but since my life was nothing, I wanted to spend HER life with her. Could I do that? Condemn her to a life with only a ghost for companionship?_

_I told myself that I would step aside if someone worthy of Bella came along. Well, Mike Newton wasn't it! Even the thought of her working down the hall from him every day made me want to hit him. They had taught us some hand combat in the military. I knew he would be no match for me._

_If I had a body._

_All the jealousy in the world couldn't fix that one little problem. The truth was that I was helpless to stop his simpering looks and awkward advances._

_Unless…_

_There must be some way I could keep him away from her._

* * *

**Author's Note:**

Thanks again to my Beta, Spikey! She places my commas, finds my missing words and frets over my love of the '&' symbol.

I also want to thank everyone who has read my story so far. It's over half done, but the best is yet to come!


	15. Chapter 15: Rival

**Chapter 15 – Rival**

Disclaimer: Twilight is owned by Stephenie Meyer. I am only borrowing a few of her characters. The remainder of the story is my own. No reproduction is permitted without my written consent.

**Author's Note:**

Merry Christmas to my readers! I know it's been forever, and I have lots of excuses but it just boils down to real life taking priority. Don't worry. I'll keep plugging away at this story.

Since I have such a long time between chapters I've been told I need to provide a summary to get everyone caught up with the story. Here is my attempt:

Lost Soul is the story of Bella, a young teacher looking for a fresh start in life after the sudden death of her husband. She gets a job in a small town in upstate New York, where she buys a little house in the country. There she awakens the soul of Edward Masen, a WWI soldier who is buried in the cemetery where she lived. Eventually, he breaks through to her and they learn to communicate with each other. In the last chapter, Edward was trying to use Bella's computer with disastrous consequences.

* * *

**Diary of Rosalie Masen**

_June 30, 1918_

_I'm so happy to have Edward home safe and relatively sound. He doesn't seem happy though. He hobbles around with his cane all day, and I fear he will always walk with a limp. Aside from that first night though, he won't let anyone help him with anything. He just gets frustrated with himself. I hate to see him struggle, but he snapped at me the one time I tried to help him. He apologized immediately, of course, and I could see in his eyes that he was truly sorry._

_He hasn't said much about his time at the front. He talked a little about his training, but that's not what bothers him. Something haunts him. I just don't know what it is._

_July 6, 1918_

_It was one year ago that Jane and I went to that fateful dance. One year since I caught the eye of Royce King, and was rescued from his treacherous intentions by Edward and Emmett. If only I had known what joys and sorrows the year would bring I'd…_

_I would like to say that I would have done something different, but I don't know what it would be. I wouldn't change a thing that led me to Emmett. I wouldn't know what to change to keep Edward from going to war. I still can't help but think that it was only the slightest measure of faith that kept him alive._

_July 27, 1918_

_Royce has started calling in the evenings. I'm forced to sit for hours as he prattles on about his work and his father's connections. Edward has taken pity on me. He sits with us and keeps Royce engaged in conversation so that I can avoid him as much as possible._

_Royce isn't happy about it, but he can't say anything about our self-appointed chaperone._

_Once he finally leaves, I can feel Edward's eyes following me as I hurry up the stairs to my room. He knows I'm going to meet Emmett, but he doesn't say a word, good or bad. I do catch a look of pain at times, but it doesn't seem to be his leg that ails him. He's longing for something he's lost, or maybe never had._

_September 19, 1918_

_Emmett has resolved to ask Father for my hand. He says he can't stand Royce's taunts any more, or the thought of his lips on my hand as he leaves for the evening._

_I love him so. I hate being apart as much as he does. For better or worse, we'll know what our future holds tomorrow night._

_September 20, 1918_

_My father hates me. He is determined to see that I live out my life in misery, denying me anything that will bring me happiness._

_I watched in anticipation as Emmett arrived. Father sneered at his impertinence in requesting to speak with him, but led him into his study._

_It couldn't have been a minute later when the door slammed open again into the wall with my father's voice booming, "You will have no such thing!"_

_Emmett staggered into the hall, obviously shoved by my father. I could see that he wanted to fight back, but he restrained himself._

_Father continued his tirade. "You think you're good enough for my daughter? I'll see her married before the year is out to a husband from an outstanding family! Someone with the proper upbringing and ties!"_

_"But what about what Rosie wants! Don't you want to see her happy?" Emmett insisted._

_"Happiness! What she needs is someone that will put her in her place and keep her there! I have just the man for the job! Now get out of my house and don't show your face in my factory again!"_

_Emmett looked up at me with stricken eyes. "Sorry, Rosie," he said before departing humbly from the house._

_With that, Father slammed the front door, but he wasn't finished. He turned to me._

_"And you! Don't think I'll tolerate any more sneaking around! Royce has been begging me to announce the engagement. I thought some more time to get to know one another was in order, but I can see now that it was wrong. He'll be delighted to hear that I've changed my mind. We'll announce it next week at the dinner party when he and James return from New York."_

_"I won't marry Royce King! You can't make me!" I shouted._

_"I can and I will! Now get to your room!" he ordered._

_I burst into tears and ran. It's taken me all night to calm down enough to write this out. Poor Emmett looked so forlorn when he left. He's lost his job and I have no idea what will happen now._

_God, please don't let him give up on us._

_September 21, 1918_

_I tried to sneak out to see if Emmett returned to meet me, but Mother caught me on my way out the door. It seems that Father has put her on alert. She had been oblivious to me all this time, but now I'll never get free._

_Edward hobbled into the room as she was turning me around to send me upstairs. He caught my eye and gave a small nod. Mother stood there tapping her foot, so I couldn't talk to him, but I heard him go out the front door a few minutes later._

_I waited for what seemed an eternity, but finally heard a soft knock on my door. I helped him in and settled him in a chair near my bed. He looked exhausted but smiled at me._

_"That beau of yours seems pretty determined. He was just about to knock the door down and kidnap you when I found him."_

_"You saw him? What did he say?" I was beside myself thinking of him there alone, waiting for me. "He didn't think I'd given up, did he?"_

_"No. I told him that Father has set Mother on the task of chaperone and nanny. It's funny. She should have been in the role all along, but now that it's almost too late she's embracing it with passion." He didn't laugh at his joke and neither did I. "He told me that he is going away for a while and asked me to keep an eye on you."_

_"He didn't say where he was going? How can he just leave me like this? Father intends to marry me off to Royce any day now."_

_"He does seem pretty determined," Edward acknowledged reluctantly, "but I won't let it happen. I'll steal you away to New York City myself if I have to. Give him some time, Rosie. The man lost his job. He needs to get settled and wants to take you somewhere safe."_

_"But what about Royce? Just sitting in the same room with him makes my skin crawl. I'd rather run off and join a convent than marry him."_

_Edward burst out laughing at the thought. "I don't think you are cut out for a life of prayer and obedience," he said still chuckling. "Just be patient and go along with whatever Father asks of you. Emmett won't be long. He won't risk it."_

_A serious look came over his face._

_"Rosie, there's something else you need to consider. While Emmett was working for Father he fell into class three for the draft. Now that he is unmarried with no job he'll be moved to class one. He could be drafted at any time."_

_It was the last straw. I broke down crying in Edward's lap. He sat there with me until I calmed myself again._

_I almost lost Edward to the war. I couldn't lose Emmett too._

_October 4, 1918_

_I am now officially engaged to Royce King, or at least Royce and my father consider me to be._

_Father called me down to his study where I found Royce waiting with an evil grin on his face._

_"Ah, the fair Miss Rosalie," he said._

_"Mr. King," I replied with just a trace of disgust._

_"Not in the mood for pleasantries, I see. Well, I'll cut to the chase. Your father and I have reached an understanding. All you need to do is say yes." He held out a small box covered in black velvet. When I made no move to touch it, he opened it with a small sigh._

_Inside was a ring with a large oval pink topaz surrounded by twelve smaller diamonds in an elaborate gold setting. It was huge and gaudy and I hated it on the spot._

_I just stood there stoically as he slid it on my finger. I wanted to cry and rage, but it wouldn't do any good. I would bide my time until I could get away._

_"Ha, you see, Royce, she's settling in nicely. I knew this would be just what she needed," said Father_

_Royce looked displeased. "I had hoped for a bit more enthusiasm."_

_Father slapped him on the back. "All in good time, my boy. You can't expect miracles over night."_

_He pulled out a bottle of scotch and poured two glasses. Handing one to Royce, he toasted, "To my future son-in-law, may you finally be the one to tame the wild Rosalie." Royce lifted his glass and they both drank._

_"Can I go now?" I asked in a monotone._

_"But my dear, we still need to set the date," said Royce._

_"It's not like you'll give me any say in the matter."_

_"Be gone then," said Father. "We'll tell you when it's settled. At least planning a wedding will give your mother something to keep her mind occupied for a while."_

_I escaped as quickly as I could to Edward's room. He held me as I cried again._

**EPOV:**

Mike Newton!

I thought surely Bella knew someone else who could fix her compu-typewriter, but no, apparently he was the only one who can do the job. It was probably for the best. I had a feeling that if she had lived here longer I would have been trying to figure out how to scare off many more potential suitors. I had yet to find any man in this town that was good enough for Bella. I wanted her to be happy, but a small part of me prayed that the day she found someone was a long way off. That would be the day I would truly die.

Bella was wringing her hands, as she waited at the window for his arrival. I played a few minor chords on the piano, trying to express how sorry I was for breaking it again.

"Edward, I told you, it's not your fault," she answered without looking away from the window.

It was my fault. Electricity and I didn't seem to mix so well. I could handle simple devices like the switch on the player piano, but more complex ones were far beyond my comprehension.

I hadn't even noticed the box playing the music that night at the bar. It was the furthest thing from my mind, but when my frustration reached the breaking point at seeing Bella with Anthony that box of electricity bore the brunt of my anger.

The accident with the compu-writer should never have happened. I just wanted to talk to her. It should have been so simple to just press the letters and tell her how I feel. I was so excited! I finally had a chance to really tell her how much she meant to me; that without her I would still be drifting in a void of nothingness. I didn't register the panic in her voice until it was too late. My hope went up in a thin plume of smoke. Bella seemed to think it could be fixed, but unless Mike had a replacement vacuum tube I didn't know what could be done.

"He's here!" she exclaimed as she hurried from the door. Just as she was about to fling it open she paused and turned, her eyes sweeping the room.

"Edward, I know you're not crazy about him, but please be good," she said as if speaking to a wayward child.

I don't know when I had given her the impression that I didn't like Mike. It was the truth, but Mike was about last on the list of things I wanted to discuss with Bella. She just seemed to know some things about me. Though we had barely conversed with each other, sometimes it felt as if we were kindred spirits linked in some timeless fashion, always in tune like two instruments playing a perfect duet.

I hoped for Bella's sake that Mike could fix her little black box and get out. I could only tolerate his presence for so long.

I remained perfectly quiet like an obedient ghost should. Bella seemed to take this as acquiescence to her request. She turned and opened it just as Mike was about to knock. He stumbled forward as his fist met with no resistance landing squarely in Bella's arms. She should have just let him fall if he was going to be so clumsy.

They froze with his arms clutching at her shoulders, and Bella clutching him around the waist to prevent him from falling and taking them both to the floor. The whole scene looked like it could have been pulled right from one of the Fatty Arbuckle and Buster Keaton movies that they used to show us at the USO tent when we were waiting for the fighting to start. Mike's look of awe at finding himself in Bella's arms paired with her eyes wide with shock was the most hilarious thing I had seen in ninety-five years.

I might have laughed if Mike hadn't decided to seize the moment that fate had handed him and plant his lips on Bella's.

As soon as Bella realized his intent she gasped and let go of him, scrambling back out of the way. A camera recording the scene would have logged Mike, bug eyed and fish lipped, as he finished his descent to the floor in what was surely one of the best comedic moments of all time.

I was so proud of my girl! I knew she wasn't going to put up with his floundering moves. Bella looked stunned for a moment until Mike let out a pathetic groan. Unfortunately he hadn't planted his face on the floor. Instead he caught himself on his hands with a thud.

His noise spurred Bella back into action.

"Mike, are you okay?" She asked sounding way too worried.

"Yeah," he said as he stood up slowly. "I think so. You need a hand rail or something for that step."

This guy was pathetic. All three of us knew what really happened, but Bella was polite enough to ignore it. I wouldn't be so nice.

"So where is your computer?" Mike asked getting down to business.

Bella was still eyeing him warily, but then her eyes flitted around the room nervously as if to see what I was up to. My girl knew me so well.

"Um, it's over here on the table. I really hope you can save it. It's got all my lesson plans for the first two months of the year, not to mention my portfolio from school." Ever since the orientation session Bella had spent most of her time pouring through books and typing away. I couldn't figure out where the paper was hidden. Apparently it was still inside.

"Trust me, Bella, I'm your man! If anyone can fix it I can," Mike said confidently, his earlier failure now forgotten.

Each word, each smirk, each confident glance in Bella's direction fuelled my irritation until it reached the breaking point. Just as he bent over to his bag I flung the first thing I could find right at his head.

It was a feather duster that I snatched from the top of the icebox.

Of course Bella, still glancing about nervously every few seconds, saw it and snatched it out of the air just as it was about to make contact. When Mike looked up, she awkwardly pretended to be dusting the cabinets.

"Whoa, keep that away from the computer. Static electricity and high-tech electronics don't mix well."

"Yeah, sorry. I didn't think," Bella stammered. She turned from him and mouthed the words, "Stop it, Edward!" to me as she shoved the duster into the cabinet under the sink.

I didn't want her to be angry, but it couldn't be helped. After all, my first attempt at chasing Mike away was rather pathetic. I could do better.

Mike proceeded to take a set of tiny tools from a kit in his bag and line them up precisely on the table next to him. "All right. My operating room is ready. Let's take a look at the patient," he said once everything was perfectly aligned.

"The patient?" Bella repeated in confusion.

"Your computer?"

"Oh, sorry." Bella slid the little black box across the table to him. "I don't know what happened really," she lied. "One minute it was fine, the next the screen flickered blue and smoke started rising from the keyboard."

Mike paused in his examination, looking skeptically at her. "You got a blue screen of death and you let the magic smoke out?" He scooted his chair back a foot. "You must be a heck of a conductor if you managed to do all that. I haven't heard of somebody breaking a computer that badly in a long time."

"Is there anything you can do?" Bella pleaded. It pained me to see her so dependent on him, especially when I was the one to break it.

Mike scooted back in, selected a small screwdriver and started to remove several tiny screws that I hadn't even seen.

"Honestly, if you smoked it then there probably isn't much that I can do. I'm going to pull out the hard drive and see if I can access it remotely." I couldn't understand his gibberish, but apparently Bella did. She heaved a sigh and sat back to watch him work. "You know most people would just toss it, but I've got a knack for these things."

Mike went on to bore both of us with several tales of computing devices which he repaired miraculously, or in one case, brought back from 'beyond the grave' as he put it. I'd had more than enough of his pompous babbling, and decided that it was time to make things more interesting again.

My first attempt was easily thwarted by Bella. I would need to be more subtle. The next time he set his tiny tool back on the table I sent it to the floor with a gentle flick.

"Oops, can't lose that," he said cheerfully, retrieving it from the floor.

I waited just a moment after he set it down I sent it to the floor again.

"Whoa, this little guy wants to get away from me," he said reaching down again.

The third time I didn't waste a second. As soon as his eyes were back on Bella I pushed it off again, this time making sure it rolled way under the table.

Bella's eyes grew wide for a moment. She knew what was happening.

"I think you need to have your table leveled," Mike said with a hint of irritation creeping into his voice.

"I'll get it, Mike," Bella said, peering under to see where it had rolled.

"No, don't worry, I think I can reach."

He ducked his head under the table and snatched up the screwdriver. Just as he was about to stand up I gave him a small shove. His head hit the bottom of the table with a sharp crack.

"Shit!" he screamed and rolled over onto the floor clutching his head.

"Mike, are you okay?" Bella asked rushing to his side. "Let me get you an ice pack." She pulled several cubes of ice from the freezer, placing them in a towel that she pulled from a drawer.

"Edward," she hissed into the frosty space, "I don't know what you're up to but stop it now." She slammed the door shut and took the towel to Mike, placing it gently on his head.

He winced but accepted it, capturing her hand under his as they both held the pack to his head.

After an awkward moment of tugging, Bella managed to get her hand back, but Mike still looked smug.

"Hey, how are Eric and Ben doing?" Bella asked changing to a neutral subject.

"Oh, Eric is Eric. Ben sends his thanks, though. He called Angela like you suggested. I think they met up in the city last weekend and 'declared their love' or something," he said swishing his hand through the air. "The poor guy has been walking around in a daze ever since, but he looks happy. He said he never would have had the guts to do it if you hadn't ordered him to call her."

"I didn't order him," Bella protested. "I just pointed out…"

"You told him that fate was going to kick his ass if he didn't call her. It was an awesome moment. Don't knock it."

"Okay." Bella smiled. Mike wasn't supposed to make her smile like that. "I'm just glad they're together." She settled back into her seat, holding Mike's screwdriver, and handing it to him when he needed it.

When Mike finally had all the tiny screws out he pulled a panel off the bottom of the device. The insides were green with what looked like tiny black bugs with silver legs. There wasn't a vacuum tube in sight.

"Hmm. The circuit board looks a little scorched. I don't think you'll get this thing to work again."

"No!" Bella jumped out of her chair and rushed around to look over Mike's shoulder. "It's going to take me forever to recreate all that work."

"All is not lost, my dear," Mike said in a dramatic voice. "The hard drive looks okay. Let me see if I can get it out and transfer the data."

Hope sprang up in Bella's eyes. Once again I was reminded that I had caused the situation, and she had to rely on Mike to fix it. I kept quiet hoping that he would do what he needed to do, and leave.

Mike pried an even smaller black box loose. It was attached with a ribbon of wires which he pulled free from the end. "Laptops are cheap, but the hard drive's data is the part that is irreplaceable," he said holding it up.

"You really think you can save my files?" Bella asked hopefully.

"Like I said before, if I can't then nobody can," Mike said pompously.

Mike pulled his own little black box out of his bag, opened the cover and turned it on. While a series of meaningless words flashed across the screen, he dug through a tangle of cables in his bag, looking at the ends of several until he found the one he wanted.

"This baby ought to do the trick," he said as he connected it between Bella's hard drive and his own box. "It makes your hard drive look like a USB drive.

"Wow, I didn't know you could do that," Bella said, watching the process intently.

I had no idea what he was doing, but even I was grudgingly impressed.

"The moment of truth," Mike said ominously. He tapped a few keys, some lights flashed, and the little box whirred to life. With a few more clicks Mike spun the box around to Bella. "Ms. Swan, is this your missing data?"

Bella pulled the box to her and began reading and clicking frantically. I couldn't follow what she was doing, but as each second passed her smile grew.

"It's here! It's all here! My lesson plans, my portfolio, everything. Thank you so much, Mike."

Mike leaned back in his chair with his hands laced behind his head. "It's all in a day's work for the tech savvy like myself," he said smugly.

Bella flicked her eyes to him for a moment giving a little laugh at his pose. He didn't seem to mind because he just grinned back at her. He was getting way too cozy. I decided that it was time to show him the door.

"Ok, next problem. How do I transfer it to my new laptop when I get one?" Bella asked.

"That's easy." Mike dug in his bag and pulled out a little blue rectangle. "Here is a memory stick. Copy what you need immediately onto it. You can always work on one of the school computers until you get a new one. I also recommend you buy an external hard drive that you can use to back everything up regularly. I can help you set it up."

Bella took it and plugged it into the side of the laptop expertly. "Thanks. I guess that was never something I thought too much about. I'm still learning when it comes to computers."

"Don't worry, I've got you covered." Mike said with a self-satisfied smirk.

"Are you thirsty? I think I've still got a few beers in the fridge."

"Don't mind if I do," Mike replied. He opened the icebox door and gave the contents a thorough inspection as if he owned it. Finally he pulled out a can, popped open the top and took a long satisfying drink.

Bella was working intently on the laptop, and didn't hear the first soft chord I played on the piano in the other room, but Mike did. He looked around intently, but couldn't find the source. As he settled back into his chair, I began to play again.

The first string of notes in Bach's Tocatta and Fugue in D minor were some of the scariest I could recall. I remembered getting chills as I learned to play them as a child. I hated to practice it alone at the piano, particularly on dark winter evenings. I hoped it would have the same unsettling effect on this unwelcome guest.

"What the hell is that?" Mike shouted, startling in his chair.

Bella just closed her eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. "That would be my piano acting up again. Wait here. I'll shut it off."

Bella came around the corner and slammed the piano cover down over the keys. "Stop it, Edward," she hissed. Bella was gorgeous when she was angry.

She stomped back to the kitchen table.

"Sorry about that. The player mechanism is touchy," she said as she sat back at the computer.

I gave her a minute before starting on my next selection.

Nothing built a sense of impending chaos and doom like Mussorgsky's Night on Bald Mountain. Its fast trills over the slower chords always gave a feeling of pent-up energy, straining against an unseen barrier, just itching to break through to reap destruction on the world.

"Hey! I get it! You're a Mickey Mouse fan." Mike jumped up and started waving his arms in time with the music as if he was directing a non-existent symphony. It was not the reaction I intended.

Bella rolled her eyes and returned to the piano. This time she pulled the plug from the wall.

"Edward, I mean it! Unless you want me to call in the Ghost Busters, leave him alone."

"I unplugged it. It shouldn't happen again," she said to Mike.

"Aw, I was just starting to have fun. I didn't know you could get the Fantasia songs on old piano scrolls," he said.

"You'd be surprised what comes out of my piano," she muttered sitting back down at the table.

Mike took a quick drink of his beer, but my performance had clearly had an impact. It dribbled down his chin and onto his shirt without any more help from me.

"Shit," he muttered, wiping at the wet spot on his shirt. Bella grabbed a towel and started dabbing at his chest. Judging by the grin that slid onto his face, he was enjoying it way too much.

I slammed the piano's key cover down with a crash. Mike jumped back from Bella, finally getting the message.

"Um, it's fine," he stammered. "Can I use your bathroom?"

"Sure. It's upstairs, first door on the right."

As soon as he left the room Bella began whispering loudly and furiously to me, but I didn't stick around to listen. I followed Mike up the stairs. It was time to get rid of him once and for all.

He flipped the light switch and shut the door, but instead of going about his business he stood in front of the mirror staring at his reflection. He waggled his eyebrows, smiled, frowned, and smoothed back his hair. "Lookin' good as always," he told himself with a wink.

Satisfied with his assessment, he pulled open the mirror, exposing a small cabinet set into the wall. He poked around in the contents for a minute and then pulled out a flat circular box and popped the lid.

"Just started a fresh pack o'pills. That means Mama's lookin' for love and good to go for the next three weeks. I've got to step up my game if I'm going to get laid anytime soon."

I didn't know why Bella would take the medication, but I couldn't miss the intention in his words. The thought of Mike Newton being intimate with my Bella was the final straw. It was time for the last act of my performance for the night.

A chill settled over the room causing Mike to shiver violently. He snapped the pill box back together and put it away quickly. Turning his back to the sink, he flipped up the toilet seat and unzipped his pants to take a piss.

He stood still for a moment, holding himself. Another shiver ran through him. He shook it off, widened his stance, and tried again.

"Come on, little Mikey, there's no one else here. No reason for performance anxiety," he said to himself.

Finally, after closing his eyes and meditating for a moment his stream began to flow. His face morphed into one of complete contentment and relaxation. Eyes closed, he didn't see the toilet seat begin to tip silently until gravity pulled it with a swift crash down to the porcelain.

"Holy shit!" he yelled, jumping back and pissing on his shoe in the process. "Damn it!" he cursed again, aiming the last few drops back in the toilet. "There's something seriously wrong with this place."

He grabbed a wad of toilet paper and wiped off his shoe, the floor and the seat as best he could. Just as he flushed the lights flickered off.

Frantically, he spun around and groped for the light switch. He found it after a few seconds of darkness and flicked it on and off several times. Finally on the fourth try, the lights flickered on with a crackle of electricity.

Mike froze. His eyes grew wide with fear as he read the words written in red on the mirror.

Stay away from Isabella. I'll see you in hell before I let you have her.

His eyes flickered across the message three times before he regained the ability to move. He yanked hard at the door handle before remembering to turn it.

He tore down the stairs and into the kitchen where Bella was rolling up cables and tucking them into his bag.

"Thanks for helping me, Mike. I don't know what I would have done without you," she said.

"Um, no problem," he said trying to get his fear under control. "Listen, Bella, I need to go." He took the remaining items from a bewildered Bella and shoved them haphazardly into the bag.

"Mike, is something wrong?" she asked cautiously.

"No… yes…"

He sighed heavily, and finally looked her in the eye.

"Bella, are you okay staying here by yourself? I mean, there's something strange about this house and I worry about you being here by yourself all the time."

"I know that some strange things happen here, but I assure you there's a rational explanation," she insisted.

Mike had picked up all of his things and backed himself up to the door. "I really don't think you should stay here alone. Are you sure you don't…"

"Mike," she interrupted, "I'm fine here. I'm happy and I'm not going anywhere." He nodded in acceptance.

"I guess I'll see you at school," he said weakly.

"Thanks again."

He slipped out the door, darted to his car, and as soon as it started, he was out of the driveway like a shot.

Bella watched silently out the window as he drove off. Her expression was unfathomable, and I wished for the thousandth time that I could read her mind.

When Mike was long out of sight, she turned and said in a firm schoolmarm voice, "Edward Masen, what did you do?"

Before I could answer she tore out of the room and up the stairs. By the time I realized what she was doing it was too late.

There in the mirror, her beautiful reflection was marred by the ugly words I had used to frighten my rival.

I hadn't thought what Bella's reaction might be. With a sob she tore from the room and ran back downstairs. She grabbed her purse and keys from the counter.

I tried to get her attention. I needed to apologize; to explain.

She wasn't about to listen. She shouted, "Stay away from me, Edward Masen!" as she ran out the door and drove away.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

Aside from being some of the creepiest classical music, Bach's Tocatta and Fugue in D minor and Mussorgsky's Night on Bald Mountain were both featured in Disney's Fantasia. Edward would have certainly been familiar with the first two, but could not have anticipated Mike's reaction since Fantasia wasn't released until 1940.

The first commercial radio station didn't begin broadcasting until 1920, but vacuum tube radios were used for communication in WWI, and amateurs were having fun with them in the 1910's. These radios would have been the limit of Edward's experience with electronics.

Thanks to everyone for staying with my little story. I haven't been able to travel for work during the past six months, and that has cut drastically into my writing time. Fortunately, that is about to change. I expect to be on the road about 50% of the time starting in February. I'll do my best to keep the story moving. Some of my favorite chapters are coming up.

Also - thanks again to Spikey for her mad editing skills!

Please leave a review and tell me what you think!


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